


Morning Light

by Romanceisdead69



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Asylum, M/M, Mind Manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-18 08:45:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2342288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romanceisdead69/pseuds/Romanceisdead69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One fateful night Akihito is approached by a stranger who requests his help in finding a lost relative, leading him to the Morning Light Asylum and into a strange and macabre nightmare. One that will leave him questioning everything he knows. Is this all simply fate? Or, is it somebody's idea of a twisted game, one made to trap Akihito in darkness forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! :D 
> 
> So here's another story that was originally over on FF.net, again I'll stagger the updates because I have a very short attention span XD - it's all complete bar a short Omake I am in the middle of writing. I hope you like it!!!!!!!
> 
> Warnings: Swearing (like all of my work for some reason!) Yaoi.

**}xXx{**

"Thank you, have a nice evening!"

Akihito bids farewell to the shop assistant, swinging his backpack over his shoulder and collecting his two grocery bags, leaving the convenience store with an extra little pep in his step as he eagerly checks his watch. Asami had text just a couple of hours ago to say that he would be finishing early today, leaving the photographer to (a little too happily) abandon his stakeout after another long, uneventful day and instead spend way too much money on dinner for the two of them, buying prime Beef, Beer and Vegetables to complete his dish. He won't bother with desert today though, they never do quite get around to eating it. For some reason.

Akihito exits the glass doors and smiles absently to himself, playing with the cute pink dongle hanging from his phone so doesn't quite notice the man in his peripheral vision, the one who is leant against the wall of the store - waiting for  _him_  to come out. A hand lands heavily on his shoulder and the boy feels it, spinning around and shackles raising immediately, ready to spit insults at who he  _assumes_  is one of Asami's more clueless, clowns. Seriously, the guy is so damn unpredictable!

"Oi! What the hell! Tell Asami that I'll meet him at ho-!"

Oh.

Akihito's confused, where there should be (and normally is) a tall, dark suited man looking down at him with a mild disdain and patronising amusement, stands instead a pastel shirt wearing, moustache sporting, friendly well,  _normal_  looking guy. The photographer blinks a few times, groceries going into one hand while he rubs his neck in embarrassment with the other.

"Eh. S-sorry I though you were uh-someone else…"

There's nervous laughter and awkward silence for a few moments while Akihito wonders how he can possibly politely get away without causing more of a scene, the stranger however draws his attention.

"You're Takaba-san, right?"

Well. That was unexpected, so much so that Akihito just blinks in response, his eyes already seeking out escape routes.

" _You are_  Takaba-san right? They said you'd be able to help - please, just listen…"

The man introduces himself then as Tanaka and thanks Akihito for sparing him a couple of minutes of his undoubtedly valuable time and asks to impose upon the journalistic photographer just a little more, he asks Akihito to accompany him to a nearby café to discuss a most distressing and intriguing case. One that's been troubling him for the last couple of weeks.

Leaning across the small table Tanaka explains to Akihito the situation, he has a relative that was placed in an Asylum out of town  _without his permission or knowledge_ , a place just outside a rural village that Akihito had never heard of before. A place called Shinsei Chuku. Sacred Hollow. Tanaka says he's concerned that his great uncle, Tanaka-san the elder has apparently left a will that by  _rumour_  has left everything to the present Tanaka but, he can't act on it without knowing if the old coot's dead or not.

He had phoned the Asylum but they claimed no patient of that name has ever stayed there but, he needs to confirm the old man's where a bouts. Furthermore, the hospital where Tanaka-san was a resident before just went and signed him over to the Asylum, so why isn't there a record of him from then on? Akihito scowls and taps his coffee cup in irritation throughout the entirety of the milky moustaches speech and tries to hold his tongue, he's a little disgusted to say the least that this guy is just interested in finding his relative for the sake of money but, it still doesn't take away the fact that a person is missing.

"Is there any way the hospital made a mistake? That Tanaka-san was transferred somewhere else?"

"Naa. I don't see how -" the guy says somewhat incredulously, disbelieving just how this young man can even doubt his story. "-They checked the paperwork right there in front of me. Transferred to the  _morning light_  Asylum week before last - then, nothing!"

Akihito and him chat a while more and while he would hate to admit it, he's intrigued. By the sounds of it the Asylum could be targeting people they suspect have no family to what, traffic them? Could it be a front for a smuggling operation? Did the old man know too much? He ponders on that while he also doubts the validity of the whole thing - what possible reason could they have for trafficking a 76 year old man anyway?

He goes home that night uneasy, knowing that he probably won't be able to drop this case as after all, there's a person missing. Just as  _he was_  all those months ago.

He switches on the lights, illuminating the pristine penthouse apartment while he toes off his shoes at the door. Asami shouldn't actually be home for a while yet so it'll be enough time to cook dinner and do some research into this new case. It's lucky this came up now really as Akihito's current one is a total bust.

**}xXx{**

Asami hangs back in the kitchen after dinner, watching Akihito wash up while he smokes a cigarette and grabs them both a drink. Akihito tells him all about the case he had been presented with this evening though perhaps understandably leaving out some of his own more  _controversial_  theories - leaving just a vague story about some greedy beneficiary to his lost great uncles will. And Akihito's need to find him, he needs to ensure the old man's safe.

Asami's eyes soften somewhat at that, soften the way that only happens when he looks upon Akihito and he chuckles at the young and caring, sentimental fool. Taking a drag on his Dunhill as Akihito pulls yet another dirtied utensil into the sink.

"Are you even getting paid for this Goose chase?"

Akihito gasps, continuing to scrub the pan but turning his head a little as a goofy, sheepish smile lights up his face. One that says ' _ah!_  - I knew I forgot something.'

"That's a 'no' then."

Asami, still smirking at his naive lover stubs out his cigarette, instead taking a long swig of beer before setting down that too so he can walk over to Akihito, to finally claim the boy he's been thinking of all day and to reaffirm that this is his  _own_  exclusive daily ritual. His alone.

Large hands squeeze lightly, rubbing at the small hips that for some reason only known to geneticists (probably) fit so perfectly against his own. Appreciative thumbs sneak under the worn, stripy T-shirt and caress the smooth, pale flesh while the mans lips seek out a pleasure of their own.

Akihito turns his head around awkwardly and up in a way that should be extremely uncomfortable but he only moans softly, Asami's mouth covering his so completely that it simply makes Akihito want to be devoured over and over again. He's so lost in it that he doesn't even realise when Asami's hands start to roam under his shirt, caressing his chest and nipples. He doesn't realise the moment when his hand leaves the soapy dishwater in the sink, water and soap suds running down his fair arm and into his sleeve as he reaches it back to cradle Asami's head. Fingers threading through raven hair, tugging eagerly.

He does notice however, the moment when he hears the unmistakable pop of his Levis being unbuttoned. The slide of his fly being pulled down before a well practiced, greedy hand snakes into his boxers - Ah.

"Nnh…op…stop-!"

Asami blinks, drawing away with a raised eyebrow.

"Not here, at least do it in the bedroom! I'll have to wash up everything again like last time!"

All that earns him is a snort and Asami yanks Akihito over, pulling him flush to his own larger body by a slim wrist to look at the boy in a way that would only be appropriate long after the watershed. It makes Akihito's eyes fly wide and he looks away in a blush tinged huff.

"B-bedroom, in the bedroom or not at all."

Asami laughs now, walking away swiftly and leading a rather embarrassed Akihito by the hand.

**}xXx{**

Something rustles nearby, a warm body presses itself to his back and a steadying hand lay flat on his chest as he's impaled, the remnants of last nights sex easing the way. He moans breathlessly, still somewhere between asleep and awake, not really ready to commit himself to either state, just yet.

The presence at his back chuckles darkly, making itself known a little more now with moist lips against his neck, close to his ear whispering a husky, 'morning' with a voice dripping with all too tempting sin and arousal. It makes Akihito shudder, and moan again.

His hips move quite of their own accord, ingrained primal programming dictating his pelvis and body's urgent response to the ministrations when Akihito  _himself_  is only too happy to merely lay there, just taking in the sensation instead. A shudder rocks Akihito's body as Asami draws out almost all the way, leaving him empty and wanting though  _just_  for a second before he's full again, so full. His balls and body taught, hole fluttering against the deep throb, the almost painful ache of being made love to so slowly,  _attentively_. By Asami.

It's not long before (eyes still firmly and most stubbornly closed) Akihito reaches back and grabs at Asami's ass with the hand that isn't currently busy desperately clinging to a pillow. He squeezes the flexing muscles beneath his fingers none to gently, aroused even more to feel just  _how_  Asami's thrusting into him. His undulating hips. He breathes heavier, moaning while pushing their bodies closer still, a silent entreaty to speed things the hell up already. This is some kind of sick torture, it must be.

There's another low laugh as Asami pulls out of him all the way leaving him empty, Akihito gasping at the loss though it's short lived because he's soon pulled onto his back, legs lifted and spread before he's entered again in a few short, shallow thrusts. His eyes have no choice but to open now. Lips parting in a long, satisfied breath before he catches the mischievous, knowing glint in his lovers eyes. He smiles tiredly and pulls Asami's head down for a long good morning kiss.

A while later, after a very refreshed Asami is all showered, dressed and has left for work, Akihito considers the case some more. The guy said the police had come up empty, no trace of old Tanaka-san anywhere - even at this so called  _Morning light_  Asylum. If that's how it is Akihito figures he may as well go there for a few hours, poke around see if there's any sign of either the old man or some sort of illegal activity. Well, he better work on his back story.

He grabs a pair of prop glasses from his undercover stash, used regularly in cases where he's had to infiltrate companies where (thanks to Asami) his face may most likely be known. He forgoes a wig and just slicks his hair with some gel, placing the glasses carefully on his face and buttons up his plaid shirt all the way. The camera goes onto it's tripod and he stands before the plain wall, setting the timer to give Akihito a chance to pull his most trustworthy, 'you can count on me!' face he can muster.

"Not bad…"

The photo gets uploaded and printed, Akihito overlaying it onto one of his blank drivers licence cards kept around for such an occasion before he switches on the laminator to heat up. His secret laminator. He may have to kill the guy if Asami confiscates anymore of Akihito's ' _trouble making apparatus_ ' as he called it when he last took something. The lock picking kit Akihito had used to enter a warehouse belonging to one of Asami's more dangerous business associates - yeah that didn't end well for Akihito when he was caught red handed and the bastards had called Asami. His ass still tingles from the memory.

Akihito carefully places the film over the licence template and smoothly sticks it down using the machine, it's a good enough job to withstand cursory check but, he hopes a countryside psychiatric hospital won't have a reason to look at it too closely anyway.

**}xXx{**

Shinsei Chuku.

When Akihito had finally stepped off his last bus into this town after a long and hectic journey he was almost shocked to see somewhere so quiet. Like, it's really quiet, no people around and only a few cars parked neatly along the sides of the roads. Hell, the shops and businesses lining the hughstreet seem to be closed even though it's barely afternoon. Well, Akihito thinks - that could be a sign of a high crime area, residents too scared or the town too poor to operate their daily lives unhindered. His curiosity just sparked a little more.

Shit though, that's just great. There's no mobile phone signal.

He crams his phone back in his pocket making a mental note to text Asami to let him know he had arrived safe and Akihito figures he should buy some food supplies in the mean time, it being lunch time and all. That's easier said than done though as there seems to be absolutely nothing around but eventually he spots an elderly man outside of a small shop that  _seems_  to at least have the basics. He greets him though the man ignores him in favour of reciting Haiku so he shrugs it off and buys a few dusty bottles of water from who he suspects must be the old mans wife but soon after, on his way out of the shop a croaky voice draws his attention.

"The woods decay, the woods decay and fall…like bodies….Rotting."

Akihito shivers, turning back to look at the old man not quite hearing what was said in that raspy sing song voice. Was the old man talking to him?

"…Clawing at the walls, can not get out. Not for eternity…"

And just like that he stops, his heavy lidded, wrinkled eyes examining him before the man without reason breaks out into a wide, toothless grin. He leans forward over his cane, regarding Akihito with amused eyes, clouded with cataracts. He opens his mouth to speak.

"Boy…don't go near the weeping woman….don't go…stay away…"

It's a nonsensical statement - doesn't mean  _anything_  and Akihito really doesn't get it but it still sends a shiver of foreboding down his spine and he finds himself taking an involuntary step backward. Like something's telling him to retreat. He quickly breaks eye contact with the now chuckling old man and hurriedly walks down the street on his way to the Asylum. In and out, in and out Akihito and you can get home.

After walking for some minutes around the outskirts of town he eventually reaches the large ivy covered sign which reads  _The Morning light Asylum_  and he regards the huge rusted wrought iron gates with a steadily growing trepidation. He has a bad feeling but, he knows he's never been one to back down when the going gets tough. Just look at his relationship with Asami.

The gates creak ominously as Akihito pushes one open to slip his body through and the gravel crunches beneath his feet. He almost hesitates again when he's finally within reach of the building itself, stepping into the long grey shadow cast by the tall, imposing western style house.

There just isn't anything, not the rustling of the wind through the leaves, nor birdsong or the even normally irritating hum of passing traffic. It's as if this place is far removed from it's surroundings. Like the rest of the world is simply not welcome.

He takes a breath and adjusts the rucksack over his shoulder before setting his sneaker clad foot down on the first step, steadily climbing the worn stone staircase until he reaches the flaking green double doors and gulps. Why is he doing this again? Oh right, missing person, possible law breaking - yeah.

He knocks three times before entering, looking around with a quiet 'sorry to intrude…' and closing the door behind him. He makes his way up the quiet corridor and comes upon wide reception desk.

"Ano…Chotto-"

"AH-Argh!"

Akihito whips around at the almighty crash and loud shout behind him, feeling a cold, wet something splatter over the back of his legs. A large pair of spectacles slide to a stop at his toes which he bends down to pick up. Reaching forward to hand them to the young woman currently patting the floor.

"Oh goodness not again, second time today - Yuri-sensei is going to kill me! - Ah-oh-my-my glasses-!"

She slips the thick framed glasses on her nose and spots Akihito's coffee covered feet, gasping and looking up quickly to apologise. Though nothing comes out. The girl blinks up at the good samaritan for some time, a deep blush immediately dusting her fair cheeks as she stares at Akihito's face in sheer, unabashed wonder. The girl is young, early 20's if Akihito had to guess, with wavey brown hair tied in a neat bun and a cute button nose. She's dressed in a smart dress with a name badge reading  _Sakio Mei_. Good. She must work here.

"Are you ok?"

She gasps, realising she's spent too long staring at the gorgeous young man in front of her. Mei stutters out a 'ah-daijobou' and starts to hurriedly gather up all of the scattered shards of china and biscuits onto the lacquer tray, managing to slice her finger in the process -

"Ow!"

Akihito takes her hand in his and helps her to her feet, handing her an  _'AR'_  monogrammed handkerchief to wipe up the small cut. The handkerchief is one that Asami had given Akihito after he had complained about the state Asami left him in after a uh, trip in the limo. Asami didn't want to clean Akihito up, said he wanted to mark him. Keep their come smeared over Akhitio's body as proof of just  _whom_  the boy belongs to. Akihito told him to fuck the fuck off.

"Oh thank you, I'm sorry about that I've been meaning to get new glasses and uh - oh!"

She turns back to him suddenly, hands on his chest after almost loosing her balance again as she pushes her glasses up her nose.

"You're here for the interview! Oh gosh I'm so sorry, right this way sir - what was you name again? Taka-Takayama? Ah, you're early - that's good."

Akihito nods noncommittally and thanks his lucky stars for this turn of events, he didn't need to present his bogus inspector story and he's  _even_  wearing his trusty secret camera. Even if the real Takayama turns up Takaba will be able to easily concoct a story that will get him off the proverbial hook by pleading ignorance.

"So…it's really quiet here. Where are the patients and all the other staff?"

"Oh that, we treat the patients mostly in the other wing because we like to keep it separate from what the relatives see. As for the staff…Unfortunately we're having trouble finding reliable people. But  _you_  seem to be a nice guy.  _Takayama_..."

She gives him a sideways smile, blushing again as Akihito swallows - feeling guilty that he's already planning his escape after he captures his scoop. He'll stay until this Takayama person turns up this afternoon but until then, have a look around and try to make it to wherever the records are held and hopefully find the evidence he needs to track down Tanaka-san.

They walk for a while, Akihito being lead to an office on the third floor where, beyond the door a tall and broad, fair haired gentleman is sat behind his desk wearing a white coat, regarding some papers with a deep interest. He hears Mei's soft knock on the door and slips the papers back in their folder before peering over his glasses and getting up to greet his visitors.

"…Ah, you must be Takayama-san?"

"Oh yeah uh, that's me." - Akihito says bowing, thinking on his feet. He's glad he was prompted as to what his fake name is. he'll have to remember that.

"Thank you for coming, please take a seat."

He does, casting a somewhat nervous glance over the many shelves lining the walls between the large windows, looking with a morbid kind of interest at the preserved body parts and animal foetuses suspended in time, floating in a blueish brown solution. Hundreds of them. Punctuated with worn volumes of books on biology and the human anatomy.

"Beautiful aren't they? The specimens..."

Akihito didn't realise the man had settled himself in front of the desk, leaning with his arms folded and regarding Akihito with a mild interest until he turns and jumps a little, startled that the doctor had gotten so close without Akihito even noticing. There is something weirdly familiar about the man, a strong, chiselled jaw, heavy set brow and he's clearly Russian judging from his accent but Akihito fights down the growing unease with logic. Just because he's Russian doesn't, doesn't mean -

"Yuri."

Akihito's heart stops. Like. Literally stops.

"...W…what?"

"My name, you can call me Yuri."

"Ah, oh - sure. Call me Aki-Akira."

To his surprise Yuri smiles, nodding swiftly before sweeping around to his desk and taking up a set of keys and a folded white lab coat. Setting them down in Akihito's lap.

"You're hired. But please be careful, some of them bite."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Swearing, mentions of some mistreatment of hospital patients, mild het. Het? - Yeah, Het… : /

**}xXx{**

Two sets of shoes clip clop along the worn ceramic tiles, the faint echo reverberating solemnly down the vast corridors as Akihito and Mei make their rounds. Akihito thinks back a few hours while he ponders the copious amounts of colourful medication set out on his tray, Yuri-sensei had set the uniform on his lap with a set of keys explaining that just like _that,_ he got the job. The meeting hadn't lasted too long after that but the undercover Akihito was glad, there was something quite unnerving about the way Yuri-sensei had been looking at him. A straight, unblinking stare and a small curious smile playing along his thin lips. He really does resemble someone -

Akihito shakes his head with a shudder, drawing Mei's attention.

"So Akira…" She smiles, coyly regarding him through batting eyelashes. "How are you liking the place so far?"

"Uh? Eto…"

Eh? Akihito has no idea what to say to that, how was he supposed to feel about any of it? After what he's seen just from the small tour Mei had lead him on he just wants to leave. He really hopes Tanaka-san hasn't been here all this time. Having to endure all of this.

She had taken Akihito around the active treatment areas, the hydrotherapy suite for starters which did nothing to belie Akihito's nervousness. Monstrously big, dubious containers a patient would be forced to sit in for hours, their head poking out the top while their body is whipped with cool jets of water, or worse.  _Sweating._ Where the patient would be wrapped tightly head to toe in thick woollen blankets and doused repeatedly with cold water. One look at Akihito's horrified face had Mei reeling, she had assured him earnestly that it's a very well known method of treatment intended to calm and soothe the more uh, rowdy patients. Calm them. Yeah.

From there though it had only grown more disturbing, seeing the thick leather straps fitted to each bed and chair, hearing the occasional harsh shrieks and cries that would cause the fine hairs on the back of Akihito's neck to stand on end. It's not that the noises were all that intimidating but there was something, the people…they don't sound like the screams of the mentally unstable. It sounds like they're in pain.

"Ah don't worry Akira, you'll settle in here in no time!"

She smiles brightly at him and he returns it weakly, still clicking occasionally with his concealed camera incase it spots something his eyes do not. He had hoped that he'd be out of here by now. The tour lasting so much longer than necessary with Mei pausing to look at him longingly every so often,  _however_  now at least, he's about to be introduced to every patient currently in their care here at Morning Light - and Tanaka-san, should be amongst them.

The pair enter the communal Television room, the solemn sound of todays news sets the tone for the atmosphere and Akihito tries to school his features when one of his own cases is mentioned by the news anchor. He does though pause at the table where he was setting down his tray and watch it from the corner of his eye, so the reason the stakeout was a bust - both of the Yakuza involved had already been killed.

He sighs, how many wasted hours? If Asami had anything to do with it he's gonna sure  _as hell_  kick his -

"Akira?"

Akihito spins round from where he was plotting Asami's demise and plasters a polite, neutral smile on his face, asking what he should do next. Mei nods at him and explains what he neat little scrawls on each paper pill pot means for Akihito to memorise each patients name and medication.

"What are all these for?"

"Ah, of course….we've got diazepam, clonazepam. Those plus lorazepam for Yama-san…." She counts off on her fingers, listing the seemingly innocuous drugs. "Oh and Anafranil and Prozac."

Akihito mouths a few of them to himself, recognising the names remembering reading up on a story years ago about hospitals that would use chemical restraints as well as physical ones for troublesome patients or when the place knew they would be understaffed that day. Using drugs that decrease neurotransmitters found in the brain and are used to treat anxiety or depression so to hear of so many being used at once, it sounds like they are using them for that same purpose.

With that though a pill pot gets placed gently into his hand and he's sent on his way to try and decipher which one of these crumpled, hollow figures resembles the one photo of a happy and healthy Tanaka-san that he'd seen last night. He stoops down a little, trying to to draw the attention of Mei who is happily chatting away to no one in particular and examines each face before him, definitely not looking to give these amounts of mind altering drugs to his designated person. Akihito is surprised though, for all the twenty seven people seated dejectedly and silently in this room, the age range of the patients is staggering.

They have young ladies and men, old and frail looking people and even a few that worryingly resemble his own friends and family. The thought of someone _he_ loves though ending up in a place this like is just too much to bear.

Akihito stops in his tracks, a low kind of hissing having him casting around curious looks to the patients seated around him. He looks to Mei, who is still moving from patient to patient, dolling out the pill pots and relaying an apparently funny story judging from the way her eyes are watering under her glasses and how she's chortling, holding her stomach. The photographer turns back, still clicking away with his concealed camera using the button fed through the inside of his clothes to his trouser pocket but he stops suddenly, the hissing growing closer now, louder - more urgent.

Akihito is without warning grabbed from behind, arms around his neck as a middle aged man drags himself with great difficulty out of his seat, stubble scratching Akihito's cheek as the man uses all of his strength to hold the boy close, clinging onto Akihito for dear life.

" _G-get out boy!_  Get out while yo-c-can! Can'- can't le-ave! Can't _ever_  leave unless you're  _dead_!-"

"Now Yama-san! What have we told you!"

Mei storms other and points her finger, exasperated at the noisy old man who always causes trouble. She fists the back of his robe while Akihito takes his forearms gently in his and they direct him back into his armchair where Mei scolds him. Akihito stands, shaken. Looking down at Yama-san with troubled eyes and silently urges him to speak again, to tell Akihito what he meant by that but he does't. He looks exhausted, like that outburst really did use up the last of his energy and he goes back to staring into space leaving Akihito feeling cold inside. That's similar to what the guy from the village had said. What is it with this place?

Some minutes later and after Mei had fed a silent and compliant Yama-san his medication, the pair had once again left to complete their tour. Though not much of a tour judging by the amount of rooms that had gone unvisited. Mei had shrugged it off when Akihito had asked, explaining that they are medical rooms and nothing to do with the two of them. Yuri and his medical team were the ones who worked in there with the patients.

"...Nope, our job is to keep the guests comfortable during their therapies, make sure they take their medications and tuck them in at night. The porters take care of the hygiene side of things and the medical staff carry out the surgeries and other procedures. You don't have to worry about any of that A-ki-ra-kun."

Luckily fo Akihito he was too disturbed at the mention of regular surgery taking place to note the overly cute way Mei said his name, honorific and all. He's got a lot to think about from today. Like just why the hell he couldn't spot Tanaka-san in the sea of blank faces and empty eyes.

**}xXx{**

No bars. Still no _fucking_  bars.

It's been all day, he's been been practically around the whole building and still not a smudge of signal.  _Great._  Asami will probably loose his rag and take it out on Akihito's ass when he gets home tomorrow after not knowing where Akihito's been _and after that_ , Akihito probably  _won't_  be able to leave the bed for several days. Heh. He laughs, pretending that the threat of Asami's own particular form of punishment for Akihito's continued disobedience doesn't turn him on, yeah. He's not getting hard. _At all._

Well, foregoing that thought for now Akihito turns on his side in the darkened room and looks out of his window, where from where he's lying on his small bed he can see the moon clearly, hanging low in the sky and casting a dull glow in the room. He's still dressed, it is only nine pm after all but Akihito has a plan tonight - he's going to head to the small office located behind the reception area and case all of the files, determined to find information on Tanaka-sans whereabouts.

The photographer starts suddenly, a click sounding from behind him making him shoot up and off of the bed when he thinks he heard his door being pulled closed. He considers for a second grabbing his large canon camera, ready to stun the possible attacker with the bright flash but he decides against it - it wouldn't do to give himself away just yet. After all, he had only brought that camera with him to take exterior shots of the building.

Akihito approaches the door and creaks it open peeking out into the corridor but finding absolutely nothing so he shuts it again, producing the exact same noise he had heard just a few moments ago. He grabs his keys and turns one in the heavy antique lock. Feeling a little more secure for now.

He thinks over what Yama-san had said to him as he sits down on the worn bed, the desperate edge to his voice, the gravity and horror dripping from every syllable uttered. Why hadn't the man said anything else after that? When Akihito and Mei had put him to bed tonight he had said nothing, done nothing - the medication having a heavy affect on him. What had he meant though? That the patients here are somehow terminal? Could the younger Tanaka and Akihito have misunderstood this whole case? Maybe Tanaka was sent here because the doctors had decided there was nothing further they could do apart from keep him medicated and send him to live out his remaining days here, there's certainly been no real evidence of anything yet. Over medicating perhaps and questionable treatments or even more questionable diagnoses but certainly not human trafficking.

But still. Even with that being said, Akihito still wants to find the old man and that is exactly what he intends to do, _right now._

Adjusting the hidden camera again in his clothes he steps out into the dark corridor, his small flashlight not making any real impact on the dense darkness surrounding him which really he supposes to be a good thing. He doesn't want to be too obvious in his search.

He heads into corridor after corridor, silently slipping through doors and past the bedrooms of the few staff he had spotted walking around during the day until finally he reaches a stairwell, his foot about to set down on the first moonlit step when a soul shredding scream echoes up from deep within the bowls of the building. The wide tower of the main stairwell acting much like a prism for the sound waves. Each frequency for the shrill, wet sounding scream a harrowing voice of it's own and causing bile to rise in Akihito's throat. It's the sound of someone being broken.

Though. Even after a few minutes, long after all noise has diminished and all that's left is the wind whistling past the aged panes of glass lining the outer walls of the stairwell, Akihito still stands routed to the spot. Questioning himself whether he really should continue or get out while he can. This isn't like facing down Asami or Fei Long somehow, it's not like anything he's ever known. And for the first time in his life, he's questioning his own resolve.

Shaking, Akihito returns to his room and takes out his phone as he leans himself back against the yellowing door. He stares at the screen noting with frustration how there are still no signal bars and dials Asami anyway. He needs to hear someone. He needs a word or two - any words will do, from someone grounded in logic, reality and most of all in the outside world because _here_  he feels so alien, he feels so alone.

**}xXx{**

He awakes that morning after a most unrestful night of sleep and with a painful headache brought on by the tension laced throughout his whole body during the long night. He shuts off the faint alarm sounding from his phone and notes with a disturbingly distinct pang of regret, the lack of a significancy sized dick that would under normal circumstances currently be situated quite happily deep in his ass, as is his usual morning routine.

Akihito has a renewed sense of rigour today, the sunlight is helping him feel a little less terrified of roaming around the building to look for evidence of wrong doing and fights down the growing unease and sense of guilt weighing heavily on his mind. He should have followed the scream last night, should have sought out the person who had sounded so distressed and try to help them like he would undoubtedly at any other time. What had come over him last night?

With that he goes to shower in his small bathroom, getting changed quickly before there's a polite knock on his door where Mei has come to collect him for breakfast with the rest of the staff. The break room is small, lined with mismatched chairs, a small stove and microwave for the workers who prefer to prepare their own food. Akihito and Mei however have their bacon sandwiches set down in front of them on the dining table not even big enough to seat everyone, by the elderly canteen worker. Akihito looking at his with downturned lips before he slides it away. After the violent, spluttering scream he heard yesterday he thinks it will be a good month or two before he can face eating again.

"Everyone - this is Akira! Say hello Akira!"

Akihito looks up and waves weakly at the young women and burly men sat with their plates and bowls sat awkwardly on their laps around him as Mei goes around the room listing off names for him to learn while he snaps each of them with his camera. There's only one other man sat at the table and he leers at Akihito, making him gulp but he only leans forward, asking if he can eat the sandwich if Akihito is finished with it but there's no way the photographer would put up a fight so he just mutters out an affirmative, sliding the plate across to him and counting down the minutes 'til his shift starts.

He collects the morning meds from the office with Mei and walks the tray carefully to the reading room to greet the twenty seven patients. Akihito takes a deep breath and tries to quell the sense of wrongness that's starting to overwhelm him when Mei starts to hand out the medication, he wants to slap it out of her hands rather than let her drug the patients again. The photographer whips round urgently and takes up a pill pot, intending to remove the more harmful pills but somethings wrong. If Mei has three pill pots with her now and Akihito is holding one. Why are there only twenty two pots left on the tray?

"Mei."

She doesn't notice Akihito's tense call, nor how he starts to march across the room to her. He takes her arm in an urgent grip making her turn sharply with a blush.

"A-Akira?"

"Yama-san, where's Yama-san?"

"Oh. Oh, he - I'm sorry Akira I didn't know how to tell you but, Yama-san - during the night. He passed away…"

She sets down the empty pots and sniffs, blowing her nose loudly on the handkerchief that Akihito had leant her yesterday and leaving him to stare at her with wide eyes. She's crying  _now_  but this morning she, and everyone else for that matter _seemed fine._  More than fine. How can she just act normal after that? It feels that for some reason here no one values life, it makes him sick.

It makes what Yama-san and the old man from the village said to him, resonate. He needs to get the proof and get the fuck out of here, never looking back.

**}xXx{**

"Mmmnh, _Asami-san_ …"

Asami sighs, plucking the garishly acrylic nailed hand off his shoulder for what must be at least the tenth time tonight - and again, not finding it too difficult at all to ignore the shameless groping of his person and invitations from the heavily made up woman seated next to him. A woman who won't take 'I'm not interested' for an answer.

This woman. Kakuji Miko, is married to the man Asami is currently in the middle of trying to negotiate with, however. It seems neither of them can hold their liquor terribly well as  _he_  has been in the restroom for at least twenty minutes and _she. well_. Is getting more handsy by the second.

"Hnh Asami-san, just a kiss. Kakuji won't know - he's an old fool anyway…"

Her hand slips into his jacket and caresses his strong, chiselled chest, red lips sneaking dangerously close to his before he tuts, completely loosing his patience. He gets up swiftly, toppling Miko over and she lays contentedly on the leather sofa while he relays instructions to Kirishima to see that the hopelessly drunk husband and wife gets home safe with a prepaid cab. Negotiations can be saved for another day. (Or rather. Kirishima can have an inebriated Kakuji sign the desired shares to the global company he holds a controlling share for over right now. Job done.)

Asami nods to his right hand man, Kirishima sweeping out of the room to find Kakuji with the contracts already enclosed in a pristine briefcase, leaving Suoh behind to witness a most intriguing, though desperate. Scene.

Miko's still laying on the sofa, waiting for the alpha male before her to take her already. To be the man that she's been craving for so long.

Her back arches in arousal, lips parted and chest heaving as she caresses her breasts, thighs. Looking through half lidded eyes at Asami as he finally, finally looks back at her. Smirking. She raises her legs up on the sofa and lets them fall as they may, open. Revealing red satin panties that are wet with desire. She calls his name.

He looks at Suoh.

The guard gathers up his employers coat and holds it for Asami to slip into and he lights a cigarette, together they leave the private room leaving Miko behind to blink in astonishment and stutter in surprise. Feeling no small amount of embarrassment as she fixes her dress.

The crime lord makes it all the way to his car, slipping in the door and stubbing out his cigarette before he lets out a heavy sigh. That little display did nothing but remind him he hasn't heard from Akihito since he had left him at home yesterday. It's early now, seven in the evening and under normal circumstances he would be swinging by wherever Akihito has managed to sneak himself into to scoop him up over a shoulder - kicking of course. And have his wicked way with him on the way home in the limo.

But.

Maybe he can contend himself for now in dropping by a lingerie store instead? Seeing those wet little panties had him reeling with visions of a glistening pink penis head poking out the top of the delicate lace waistband, Akihito thrusting his hips in feverish desire as Asami clicks the small dildo in the boy's ass a few settings higher giving him no choice but to call out, cry and Asami would sit there watching him. Waiting until Akihito begged for Asami to take him. Body and soul.

Yep. He'll do that.

"Change of plans, we're heading to Ginza."

Suoh nods and smoothly changes lanes, heading to Tokyo's upmarket shopping district instead of home and Asami frowns, now he's started pondering on his Akihito he's getting increasingly perturbed to not know where the boy is. Normally they would exchange texts occasionally each day, just regular banter about how Akihito's ass hurt and how much more Asami wanted to make Akihito's ass hurt  _and_  how much Asami needs to go to hell for being such an overbearing asshole, but for some reason today, these aren't happening. Not even one.

"Kirishima, I think we've let Takaba run riot far too long today. Have you managed to reach his phone after all?"

"Ah." Kirishima replies, glasses being adjusted. "Negative Asami-sama, it seems it's either off or in a low signal area. Shall I send men to his location?"

Asami doesn't answer, only looks out of the window while he contemplates something.

"No need, I'll go myself. You'll drop me off at the Penthouse and arrive as usual tomorrow. I'll be back before then."

Kirishima looks mildly surprised but recovers quickly, nodding and resumes his earlier task of regarding the newly drawn up files that he had Kakuji sign just minutes ago. Millions more yen and a further reaching influence for Asami's empire. Just like that.

**}xXx{**

At the same time but precisely four hundred and forty miles away, Akihito is also regarding files with a keen interest as he secretly rifles through the draws in the office behind the reception desk. What he had intended to do last night. It's dinner time now for the staff and just past bed time for the patients so Akihito is confident, he had excused himself with an apparent tummy bug, adjourning for the night and 'retiring to bed' but he had make one heck of a detour. Right to the other end of the building.

The sun's just setting, casting the office with a faint glow and he throws down yet another file in frustration. There's nothing. Nothing. Not a fucking thing on anybody. He had found Tanaka-san's file, eager fingers nimbly plucking it out of the fit to burst draw and had opened with fervour. Only to find it completely empty.

He had even shaken it to make absolutely, undeniably sure. But yeah. Empty.

His only choice now is to route through the computer at the other end of the room, in full view of the door but it's now or never. Akihito wants to leave here  _tonight._

It seems like hours go by for Akihito and the suns setting fast as he's endlessly tapping and clicking away at the computer. It's certainly not the newest or fastest model but it seems to house all the notes Akihito needs. That Tanaka-san was transferred a fortnight ago. That he had died here due to 'complications' due to cognitive therapy. He presses print for the pages he needs, getting up so fast he almost knocks the chair over before spotting it.

It. The weeping woman.

It's grotesque. A mediaevel painting by the looks of things but the woman is disfigured, her screaming face and bleeding eyes making Akihito grow cold. Stopping in his tracks before he can even lift a finger to retrieve the files. He feels the presence behind him before he sees it.

"Shit."

He says softly, really trying to call upon his legendary and relentless tenacity and bravery. Just why is he shaking? And why is his heart threatening to jump right out of his chest? He gulps and turns, his visitor now in his full view and he can't quite believe his eyes, or rather. He doesn't know where to look.

Glasses off, hair down, tousled and her blouse falling open revealing the gentle curve of her milky coloured breasts and pink nipples, just looking to be kissed. Is Mei. There's a slight elevation of her chest as she breathes deeply. Focusing on him. Saying his name, _his real name._  In a whisper. Though far too quietly for Akihito to hear.

"Mei-wha-? What are you...?"

She moves forward so slowly, a sharp contrast to Akihito who in turn steps back hastily though also noting that his only means of escape is cut off. He looks to his left and right, cursing Asami because thanks to him he has no real experience in dealing with these situations. With women. So what's he supposed to do? He can't kick her like he did Asami's guard. Can he?

Panicking a little Akihito stutters and stumbles over words of apology, of confusion and embarrassment but she shushes him with gentle fingers over his mouth, dragging her fingertips over the tense but moist lips and leaning up and taking them as she's wanted to since she had first set her eyes on him. A small hand finds his and because he's stunned into a state of temporary paralysis he lets her take it, it being placed over her tender breasts as she forces the soft hand to rub her. Moaning into the kiss and whispering for him to please make love to her.

She doesn't react when she's shoved off him, Doesn't even blink nor notice that Akihito is rubbing his lips angrily and looking at her with a startled concern but not for too long. Before too long he's marching past her to leave the room, only after of course grabbing the paper from the printer. His evidence of what happened to Yama-san. He's so done. He's out of here.

He pulls the door open roughly to storm out, not at all seeing the blunt object striking out from the dark that gets swung heavily his way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Use of drugs, swearing.

**}xXx{**

It's the sharp  _clack_  sound of metal on metal that awakens Akihito, eyes flying wide before a sharp pain immediately threatens to steal his consciousness away again. He winces, remembering the burst of pain he had felt upon leaving the office before falling into the darkness that had ultimately claimed him. The photographer groans at the dizziness overwhelming his senses and the sick feeling deep in his stomach from the intense throb emanating from the large, bloody and bruised lump forming on the left side of his head.

It seems the heavy, blunt object had struck him _Just_  above the temple and had smashed his glasses beyond repair, sparing his skull the worst of the damage. He's lucky.

_Lucky?_

That confused line of thought is interrupted by low, amused laughter echoing sinisterly off of the dark, cold tile walls. More  _clack, clack, clacking_  of metallic objects being set down onto a gleaming surface draws Akihito's attention and he turns his head, pained squinting eyes straining to see what's going on, trying to see where he is -

He wonders why he's strapped tightly to a surgical bed.

His breath starts a hitching a little at the revelation, feverishly fearful eyes fighting through the aching discomfort of the stark fluorescent lighting to find the source of the chillingly familiar laughter and the foreboding noise of - he spots it. The stainless steel table next to him, a hole riddled bloody blue cloth draped over the table top that's holding a variety of sharp and jagged blades and pincers. Surgical implements that are to his horror - still bloody from what he hopes and prays wasn't from use on him. A quick sweep over his body with panicked eyes reveals nothing, he's fine for now. But why is he here?

"…Well, you're awake…..and about time too,  _we're fast running out of time."_

"Yu-Yuri-sensei, what-?

" _Ssh Takaba-kun_ …call me Eduard. Eduard Arbatov- _sensei_."

Arbatov emphasises the 'sensei' with a deep, amused chuckle as he takes a seat on the tall wooden stool next to Akihito's bed. The man folds his arms, his large body still dressed in his doctors coat and he's sat uncomfortably close to Akihito who has to crane his neck painfully to be able to make eye contact with the giant. The one who is watching him closely with a small, pleased smirk.

Akihito breathes through the weight of those words and tries to gather his thoughts, slow his erratic pulse.  _Arbatov_. That's why he looks so famili-

" _Yuri,_  was my brother."

Akihito can't help but let out an audible gasp then, his mind already warring over the many possibilities as to why an Arbatov is  _here_  of all places, in this position at some god forsaken clinic in the countryside. In Japan. Could they still be messing with Asami? He blinks through the discomfort, wracking his mind for answers though none are forthcoming thanks to the strike to his head and how the stark white lights are disorientating him, causing spots to impair his vision. Each of the bright filaments are imprinted deeply into Akihito's eyes so Eduard's face is partially obscured by large purple blobs but still he looks almost pleadingly to the man. Akihito doesn't know what happened on the cruise ship in the moments following his shooting but he had always wondered what had become of him. That man. And Asami had been decidedly silent on the matter.

"Your…brother?…"

"W-was?"

What ever became of the Russians that had stolen him away when he had been so close to Asami? The  _terrifying_  man who had almost choked Akihito to death and who the boy had  _then_  gone on to shoot at. What  _had_  happened after Yuri had shot Akihito?

"I'm…I'm sorry.…How, when did this happen?"

"Mmmm?" Eduard questions absent-mindedly as he leans a little closer to Akihito, better to see those enchantingly large, frightened eyes. He tilts his head a little, eyes moving down to in turn focus on the lightly trembling lips as the boy nervously awaits a response - oh yes, he can see why his brother would have wanted to destroy this enchantingly innocent boy. To extinguish the fire in those hazel orbs and drag the last, sweetly strangled breath from those soft cherry lips.

"Oh? Shouldn't you be the one telling me? You were there were you not? Although…" He chuckles again, relinquishing his close examination of Akihito's parted, chapped lips to instead face the shining light above and closing his eyes. To bask. "…Mikhail  _had_  informed me you had been wounded, that you were not conscious in time to see Asami Ryuichi shooting Yuri  _four times before he finally fell overboard to his death. No_ …I suppose you wouldn't know, would you?"

Akihito's chest grows heavier, the fluttering breathes coming out uneven as he starts to hyperventilate a little because upon hearing that, he can't help but relive those terrible moments back on the deck of the ship. Calling, screaming for Asami but the man not calling back in return until - _"Takaba!"_  He had heard it, Asami calling back to him just as urgently from the upper deck. He had been so relieved and assured all be it only for a few short moments before he had heard the steady footsteps behind him and he had turned. Yuri raising his gun and pulling the trigger...

"So I learned that my dear brother had been slain while on one of Mikhails foolish regular side trips to Macao. Can you blame me for being perhaps a little curious about the little slut who had crossed his path and lead him so blindly to his demise?"

The photographer finds his voice then, not even so much at being labelled a  _slut_  when he hand't asked for any of it. Any of the attention that powerful underworld figures seem determined to lavish upon him. And his body. Akihito closes his eyes briefly, confused somewhat at the mans almost jovial tone and relaxed posture when his eyes tell a far different story. They're so cold and gleaming devilishly, belying the calm tone coming from his mouth.

"I'm sorry, about your brother…really. I wasn't trying to get him hurt, I'm sorry…I just wanted to go home…"

His hands tense, clenching and unclenching from where they're strapped down at his sides and he tests the give in the straps buckled over him, shifting his torso to gauge the amount of wiggle room granted for any chance of escape. There's none.

"…Is this why you're doing this, to these people? Was it a trap? R-revenge?"

"Oh? No, well  _not really_  at least - an added bonus if you like. I was as I said, curious as to whom this Takaba Akihito is _and_  his Asami for that matter. Who this foolish child is that has no understanding of the underworld and yet, has three of the underworld's most powerful men at loggerheads. Wouldn't you be interested?…You certainly had my dear little brother intrigued."

He pauses and gives a wry laugh, features and face softening. Almost as if he's recalling his fondest of memories.

"You see….Yuri, had always been a man of beastly desires, he had gotten _more than a couple_  of our household maids pregnant in his early teens  _I'll tell you now_  but, as he grew older and… _more violent._  His perversions also grew more…disturbing. I have long since forgotten the precise number of bloody little corpses he would leave strewn around the estate…I think in the end it ran into the hundreds..."

Eduard thinks back again with a little smile to a time where he was Yuri's closest ally, cleaning up constantly after him when he had lost control - the boys both growing up in a heavily strict, catholic family saw them receive regular beatings as children for disobedience or for sinning. Or so that's what their father had said. Those sessions with the cane, the belt or fists - they had left the brothers weak, bruised and hurting for weeks but their so called  _mother,_  home tutors and even servants. No one ever said anything to stop it until eventually, the boys began to resent everyone but each other. Their parents had died at the hands of their precious sons some years ago.

"…I merely wanted to see the fine little specimen that had caught his eye, and I happened to be in the area."

The doctor practically grins at Akihito as he springs up and drags the little surgical table closer to the bed, the rusty wheels squeaking along against the uneven floor which makes the boy's head throb unbearably again and he can't help but close his eyes in discomfort until, he hears more clanking objects that seem to echo with forbiddance. Telling Akihito to run if he can.

"So where do all these people come into it? Why?...Why are you experimenting on them - drugging them?"

"Ah, that's none of your concern. I'd be more worried about yourself if I were you."

"It _is_  my concern! You're using people and hurting them! I think you hurt Yama-san...At least tell me why."

Akihito is too busy being outraged to spot how he's being somewhat laughed at, Eduard rarely meets people with so much spunk in his line of work.  _Especially_  when said person is restrained oh so vulnerably to a bed in one of _his_  operating rooms.

"Hm. I suppose it would't hurt..." He laughs at the scowl Akihito sends his way, yes he likes this boy a little. He's rather entertaining. "I am employed by an organisation called 'D _awn's first light' -_ we are a privately owned organisation who specialise in developing weapons in aid of our clients covert, espionage or military missions on a case by case basis. It's rather a lucrative business actually..."

The photographer listens closely, not quite believing what he's hearing. He can't believe organisations like that even exist.

"So…why, are you using these people then? Why have you set up a sham clinic? Have they done something to you? Your company?"

"No."

"Uh-then..."

Eduard let's Akihito think while he turns his attention back to the bloody tray, his broad back to the prone figure on the bed as he picks up and sets down various implements. Precious tools of his trade.

"...It was far too easily done y'know…a doctor setting up a small Asylum on the outskirts of some godforsaken town. It's refreshing really, that the Japanese are far too trusting."

He laughs again, this time selecting a jaggedly bladed knife off of the tray and examining it closely before shaking his head and placing it back down again.

Akihito watches him through the almost blinding pain in his head and remembers something from Eduard's earlier speech, he's employed to invent weapons for war waging, spying - what is he doing to these people that could possibly have to do with his organisation? He almost shudders at the thought and somehow Mei's strange behaviour flickers in his mind. Could it have something to do with these crazy drug concoctions?

"You. Are you inventing some kind of mind control? Keeping the patients subdued, Mei - did you make her do that? Is it some kind of chemical warfare? You want to turn people into mindless drones?..."

Akihito's mind races, knowing that if by some miracle he makes it out of this alive, he's going to do everything in his power to bust this story wide open. The clanking stops suddenly though and Eduard's posture tenses, a long satisfied breath coming out in a hiss like mumble before it relaxes again and he speaks to the boy behind him once more.

And Akihito can practically hear the grin that's lighting up the man's face with a  _strange and maniacal light._

"Perhaps you could call it that, though... _I_  like to think it's because people,  _can be weapons too…"_

The boys chest hitches a little under the thick leather strap buckled tightly across it upon seeing the transformation of the man beside him. He turns back to the bed, all traces of the well humoured man Akihito was talking with just a few moments previously, gone. Replaced completely with a look so twisted and gleeful, glowing with mischief that Akihito's face turns pale.

His voice comes out in a bare whisper, trembling with fear.

" _What?_  What is that…?"

"Wait!  _No!"_

A large syringe rests quite at home in the skilled surgeon's hand. A thick looking, cloudy white liquid swirls within it's chamber and he presses down on the plunger just for show, enjoying watching those exquisite eyes light up in terror. He can smell the fear rolling off of his latest experimental candidate in waves and it smells delicious so he presses down on the plunger again, the disgusting looking concoction spurting out and splattering suggestively over Akihito's face as the man laughs on, drawing the thick needle ever closer to a struggling, tensed arm which is still strapped tightly at the boy's side.

Akihito pleads, swears and spits in defence, fighting futilely against his bonds as he fights for his life.

It's not long before the syringe's chamber is empty though and it's only a few seconds after that, that Akihito falls into a restless, drug induced slumber. A lone tear falling from under hazel lashes.

**}xXx{**

It's after one in the morning and rain is pouring down hard when Asami finally pulls his car up to the hospital gates. It was difficult finding the place, Akihito obviously hadn't bothered to really specify the location and Asami hadn't asked so he had to stop at the outskirts of town and ask for directions at a questionable looking bar instead. Now though that he's arrived, Asami looks up at the gloomy building through the rain streaked window noticing the steep incline up to the small parking lot out front and how the water is cascading down it. Clusters of gravel and soil breaking down with the sheer force of the water relentlessly beating down and in a way that shows that  _right now_ , nothing short of an all-terrain vehicle with specialist tyres is going to make it up there. Not without screwing his gearbox anyway.

He tuts and gets out of the car, leaving the thing running as he knows he'll be in and out within minutes with one rather pissed off photographer in tow so he doesn't mind that he has to push open the creaking, clunking gates, that the icy water is tickling his skin as it hits the back of his neck or even that he's ruining an (up until now) perfectly pristine pair of Versace brogues if it means he can walk the few metres to the building and set his eyes on that one dear, troublesome boy. What's a drop of rain or two?

A leather covered hand reaches up, curtly rapping on the glass of the Asylum entrance and waiting for a moment but only half expecting a response so late in an out of the way place like this so he glances through the mottled glass to the deserted corridors and upon not seeing any signs of life (and never, ever one to be kept waiting for too long) Asami enters, brushing any rogue water droplets off his coat at the entrance before making his way down the corridor, coming up to the reception desk quickly and ringing the lobby bell, just the once.

"…Coming!…"

A small voice shouts of the room off from the reception desk, a young bespectacled girl coming around the corner soon after with a hot cocoa and a hot water bottle. Rubbing her eyes.

"Ah-sumimasen! I was just resting my eyes, been rather busy…short staffed and all…"

She stops short somewhat when she sees Asami standing effortlessly yet so impressively by the tall reception desk, a hand resting elegantly on the counter. She thinks she may have whimpered slightly though when those beautiful golden eyes finally turn to her, the man regarding her with an impatient and impudent stare. She thinks he's the most beautiful man she's ever seen in her life. And she can't help but blush, averting her eyes and adjusting her crumpled dress from where she had been sleeping in it perched on a chair in the other room.

"C-can I help you, sir?"

"You can, I'd like to know where a young man by name of Takaba Akihito is - I've come to collect him."

Mei starts a little, still clutching her hot water bottle and cocoa so she sets them down hurriedly on the counter so she can rifle through the last few days' worth of admission notes. Takaba, Takaba…That name _does_  somehow ring a bell...

"Oh, I'm sorry sir I don't see any record of someone by that name being admitted. Are you sure it's this hospital?"

"Not admitted, he should have come here on the behalf of a relative of one of your patients. Tanaka."

She seems to recall  _that_  name at least if her widened eyes are anything to go by and she types a few words into the computer this time, nodding at the bright screen before relaying the information directly to Asami.

"Oh um, I'm sorry but, Tanaka-san unfortunately passed away um, thirteen days ago now…"

Asami tuts.

He sees the lost look in the hopeless girls eyes and decides enough's enough. None of this is adding up. He takes out his wallet, selecting one of the more 'SFW' photo's and presents it to Mei, the second blush of the day decorating her face when she sees the photo's breathtaking subject. This man is surely trying to find a model or something! She's pretty sure though that she would remember meeting such a genuine looking, gorgeous and friendly boy like the one who is smiling so happily back at her now from the small picture.

"Mm I'm sorry sir, I don't recognise him." She adjusts her large glasses on her nose and shifts awkwardly under the mans stern gaze. She feels like he's scrutinising every inch of her and he doesn't seem to be taking no for an answer.

"W-well…if that's all, then…"

Asami takes a breath, seething. He is most displeased. He taps on the counter more than a little agitated and looks to his left and right as her last sentence trails off awkwardly, one last check around for any wayward photographers. The man nods his head and sees nothing else for it right now but to back off and regroup as really, even though the chance is very, very slim - he  _could_  have mis heard 'Shinsei Chuku' or 'Morning light.' Right? He is Asami Ryuichi but, it may still be possible somehow.

The door slams behind him and he steps swiftly and elegantly back down the steps, water this time also invading not only his ears, scalp and coat collar but the former sanctuary of his bespoke leather shoes as well as he heads down the drive and into his car but only serving to get even more wet and even  _more_  irritated. The car door meets the same fate as the asylum doors and the glass trembles under the sudden impact almost as if reading Asami's increasingly blackened mood. He turns the key in the ignition once to get some light and runs his hands through his soaking wet hair, swiping it irritably away from his face before he whips out his phone. No signal.

He chucks it on the passenger seat and starts the car, he'll get somewhere with signal to phone Kirishima and sort out this nonsense. At this rate the little red panties will have to wait.

Several minutes later in the outskirts of town Asami pulls the beamer to a stop, keeping the engine going as he phones his right hand man who of course, picks up dead on the second ring - ready for orders.

"Asami-sama."

"Find out all you can about this place, there's no record of Takaba ever being here."

" _Ah_  is that so? I definitely had him getting the planned train at thirty seven minutes past ten the morning before last to  _Shinsei Chuku_. I'll look into it. Also, excuse me for asking Asami-sama but, your phone? It's operating quite satisfactorily there? We still cannot contact -"

"No, I've had to drive just over a mile out of the village to call you. I'm about to go back and have a look around, something wasn't right. But call me in one hour with the information. I'll be back here by then."

"Of course Asami-sama."

Asami hangs up and sighs, rubbing his tired eyes with a thumb and forefinger before chucking his phone to the side again and getting ready to disembark as the downpour grows deafeningly loud and beats down on the windshield, even with the wipers working at full pelt visibility is still almost non existent.

He gets back to the asylum and pulls the car up to the gates, having to get out to open them again in the downpour - he'll drive the car up to the door, dry off and clean up before collecting Akihito from wherever the fuck he's hiding to shove him into the car for the ride home.

He tries not to think about the other possibility, the one where Akihito may have used this place as a cover to get out of Tokyo and run away.  _No,_  he assures himself. Akihito only took a small rucksack with him, only one change of clothes. He breathes out a long calming sigh and gets back in the car, having to rev the engine and spin the tyres loudly in order to make it up the gravelly path, water and debris cascading steadily downwards to the pot holed road below. The engine roars as he makes his way up the steep incline though not as loud as the monsoon overhead.

With tyres smoking and the smell of burning rubber hanging in the air Asami finally makes it up to the small empty parking lot where he reverses in, ready to bomb it out of the place with a cranky Akihito as (no doubt) kicking and screaming hostage. Yes, he'd like to be home sooner rather than later - he wants to make the most out of those little red panties before work tomorrow.

Once the engine is finally quiet Asami steps out of the car and heads back into the building, the lights in the halls somewhat extinguished by now and there's a soft snorting noise coming over from reception. Walking forward and with his expensive wool coat dripping on the terracotta floor, he sees the young woman sleeping, arms folded under her head and he smirks knowing this will be a lot easier because of it  _but_ , he pauses before passing her completely. Her right hand draws his attention as the delicate, nimble fingers are absently clutched around a somewhat crumpled handkerchief.  _His handkerchief._  The one he distinctly remembers tucking oh so condescendingly into Akihito's shirt pocket with a smirk when the boy had been protesting adorably about how he didn't like to have to walk from the limo to the penthouse apartment with come leaking out his ass.

However again, out of pride. Akihito had refused to use the handkerchief to clean himself up but Asami had taken a little  _more pleasure_  than expected from the fact that Akihito had held onto that crisp white, A.R emblazoned handkerchief ever since.

_Until now._

His hand reaches forward, ready to snatch the embroidered cloth away for a moment but decides quickly against it deciding it wouldn't do to wake this woman when she had so obviously lied to his face back then. And so well. Instead he decides to leave her sleeping so he can go to find somewhere freshen up before continuing his search. Now it's almost certain he's in the right place.

He makes his way along the dark halls and opens many rooms that sound deserted, too many rooms and he wonders wether Mei is  _actually_  the only member of staff until he comes across a raucous racket within one room, the male staff seem to be watching a soccer game and drinking. (If the slurred goading and cheering is anything to go by.) He continues walking for a few more minutes, eventually coming to a moonlit room that doesn't seem to be occupied at all due to the crisply made bed and not much else.

The Tokyo kingpin enters and switches on the lights before checking the rest of the small room and separate shower quarters. The heating is on high so he wastes no time in pulling the blinds, locking the door silently and disrobing, all of his clothes  _shoes included_ , going onto the old western style radiator to dry while he helps himself to a short shower in the small washroom. Afterwards wrapping one of the two towels already set out around his waist loosely, the other he uses to dry his hair.

He walks around the room in the towel, opening and closing draws, sideboard cupboards and even the small cabinet door beside the bed absentmindedly, making a full journey around the room before looping back to the large window where he had enjoyed the view of the full moon briefly a few minutes ago. A view no doubt Akihito would love too.

There's something by the window though when he arrives there again, a small object that he is certain, _certain._  Was not there before his foray into the shower.

It's Akihito's ridiculous pink phone dongle.

Almost as if sensing someone behind him he whips around, he knows he had locked the door and his own keen sense of hearing would have picked up on any intruders. So why does he feel like someone was in here? Surely he would have spotted this little peculiar character on the window sill before he drew the blinds - or would he? The room was dark after all.

Asami scowls, he hates doubting himself so he does the only thing that comes naturally to him then, goes to secure the location of his firearm - it's where he had left it, hanging in the leather holster on the bathroom door. Good.

He decides to gather up his clothes now that they're dry and forgo the trip out of the village for the phone call for now. After all, hes got some digging of his own to do and one AWOL lover to find.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Yaoi dub-con all round, swearing, some mild violence.

**}xXx{**

"you're sure?"

"Unfortunately so sir. Not a single patient..."

"Right. Thank you, that'll be all for the moment."

Kirishima dismisses Suki,  _club Sions_  beautifully glamorous glossy haired and _impossibly efficient_  operations manager in order to re-re-evaluate  _every_  piece of new found information that she's just presented him with, information that is both surprising, shocking and that if they had researched the unremarkable sounding place sooner - there's no way Takaba would have ever been allowed to be within ten thousand kilometres of it. And it's current owner.

A current owner who according to Kirishima's research. Doesn't exist.

The man who's taken over this abandoned Morgue had only arrived in the country around a week before he actually took physical possession of the building, a former morticians that he had acquired after having brought it using a phone bid service during a police auction of the entire estate  _as the former residents, an elderly mother and two adult sons (who up until then had been running their local friendly funeral home) had been convicted for grave robbing and the illegal selling of body parts._

_But._

The name on the official deed that Kirishima is scowling so darkly at now is not Tsuyuho Kazuko, the greedy old baachan, nope. It's a  _Doctor Yuri Zharkov,_ which in its self is no cause for alarm. No, what's bothering him  _immensely_  is the fact that before his checking in at  _Surgut_  airport to journey to Japan, there had been no previous record of such a man, anywhere in the world. Kirishima had checked with his contacts at immigration, a contact of a contact at the Russian embassy here in Japan and a contact within a branch family of the Russian mafia but nothing. The man simply does not exist.

And then there's the matter of the patients.

The place opened six months ago, just six and already there had been an alarmingly high level of admissions running into the seventies and for the amount of people going in - none are coming out. He cannot find  _any_  information either as to what became of all of the admissions after they had left their last place of care having been admitted to  _Morning Light_ or even on relatives. They all have no next of kin listed anywhere.

So who was it that had offered the job to Takaba?

Kirishima cannot quite get his head around how many discrepancies there are with this whole situation - not being able to reach the young photographer and now Asami-sama, the mystery doctor who had appeared out of nowhere. Even the fact that there are no discharge notes, death certificates even. It's as if all seventy seven people have simply remained there, or vanished.  _Unless..._

Perhaps Kirishima is jumping the gun a little, Dr Zharkov  _could_  have just been locally based all of his life, living off the grid in some long forgotten village. He could  _now_  have had some work done to the building. Added more bedrooms for example. Takaba could just have forgotten to charge his phone. Unlikely but possible right? Yep. It's all perfectly plausible.

However maybe, just maybe he should check with Mikhail Arbatov any way as that man  _easily_  has the most extensive underground intelligence network in Russia though that will have to wait, Kirishima cannot do that without getting the go ahead from his employer as there hasn't been any contact with him since that little incident on the cruise ship so goodness knows what contacting that little troublemaker will do.

_Well_

Kirishima sets the reports neatly on the desk and waits for now, he still has some seven minutes and twenty nine seconds until he has to phone Asami-sama with the findings and who knows, his boss may give the go ahead to contact Mikhail anyway and they can get this mess sorted out quite quickly and efficiently. Just the way it should be.

**}xXx{**

Another door creaks shut marking yet another dead end for Asami. The man having made it from the sub levels of the clinic all the way up to the penultimate floor where he is now. There's just one more level before the shrewd business man thinks he'll have to finally admit to himself that Akihito is really not here.

He had started off his search optimistically enough, having cast his eyes around the reception area once more and once again passing Mei who was still sleeping soundly and clutching his handkerchief. His urge to snatch it from the lying little bitch still strong as he glared disdainfully at her on the way past to the basement door.  _It's fine though_ , he had surmised. He'll have his Akihito back and be out of here soon.

Soon...

It turns out that  _soon_  was nearly two hours ago though and as time is wearing on, Asami is having to quash more and more the ever present, unsettling voice in his mind that tells him otherwise. That he won't find his Akihito at all.

Regardless though the man forges on for now, up the next set of steps in the cold dark stairwell and into the last (and by looks of it) unused corridor. Dirtied dust sheets cover stacks of chairs and old medical apparatus, leaves littering the grit covered floor as sinister shadows line the walls thanks to the flickering and partially lit electric lamps. Most of the old bulbs already having blown long ago.

He eventually comes to a stop before a set of worn double doors, a simple placard over head reading _'infirmary'_  which he murmurs to himself, studying the mottled glass panes closely. The bloody finger prints and smudges telling a chilling tale of their own.

He doesn't know why he's standing still, almost hesitant and tempted to obey the heavy sense of foreboding that's telling him to turn around now and leave. Just forget the boy like he had every other lover in the past who had managed to get themselves into perilous situations again and again but he knows he can't, even after what he's witnessed tonight in this god forsaken building he knows he won't settle for anything less than having Akihito back safe and sound. For Asami has never really been a charitable sort of guy and he has a sense of empathy which he wilfully chooses not to employ more often than not, but. Akihito had changed that. Or at least had changed it where Akihito is concerned.

The man tuts impatiently at his own uncharacteristic self doubt and places a steady hand on the grimy door, knowing that it's here or nowhere. This is realistically the only place left to search and the only place left where his allusive photographer could be hiding. He knows he must of looked or at least glanced into every room. Staff sleeping, patients wailing, crying, self harming and in some cases self pleasuring in bed but through it all - no more signs of Akihito. Hell, if he hand't found that charm and seen the handkerchief he would never have known the boy was here at all.

Why are there no other signs of him?

There  _was_  one more aspect of this place that had been the cherry to a particularly disturbing cake and that had been the endless clinical rooms, the ones that had looked like something akin to experimental labs which he had only recognised as such due to the large, glowing tanks, the pungent smell of formaldehyde enough to burn one's nostrils and the noise of the ominously buzzing electrical machines enough to make one's teeth chatter. Extensive lab kit's laid out over vast tables still filled with the remnants of whatever concoction they had last created.

Now Asami being who he is, knows a cover operation when he sees one and had drawn the conclusion rather quickly that this place is no  _care facility_. What it _is exactly_  he knows not, but he does wonder what kind of experiments they are running here.  _And why?_

So finally, after searching more and more impatiently and dare he say  _apprehensively_ , here he is almost two hours later and opening the last set of doors silently upon the last possible hiding place where the kid could be.

His footsteps echo so softly off the floor, walls and ceiling and his eyes have to adjust somewhat after leaving the lamp lit hallway as he takes a few steps into the darkened room, the soft light spilling in from the open doorway his guide into the abyss.

He almost gasps when he does finally see that the room isn't as empty as he had first thought, it has just one occupant. A young man, seated at the far end of the room.

"…"

He lets out a long breath and lets the tension evaporate somewhat from his body as he takes in the sight ahead. Assuring himself that it's really his boy and not some foolhardy look alike. He had told himself that this would be a bust, that Akihito had left this place and  _him_  already and this would be a fruitless search. But alas, there he is.

"Akihito-"

Several beds away, along the spacious dormitory style room sits Akihito with his back to Asami (though  _as if that matters_  as the eagle eyed crime lord would recognise that particularly beautiful silhouette anywhere.) The man swings around when the door suddenly swings to a close behind him, the soft creak and inevitable click of the lock echo's again around the silent and cavernous, moonlit room. He casts his eyes around sharply before he takes another step forward. Though stopping after just the one, sensing movement ahead.

Akihito is swaying minutely with shoulders slumped, sat on a low bed to the far right of the room.  _Naked?_  And staring resolutely, silently up to the dark ceiling lit only by the large windows lining the entirety of the left hand wall. A faint blue hue cast from the moon the only source of light in here at all now. Asami's eyes squint a little, vision boring into the back of the hazel mop of hair he knows so well, the man probably being able to draw the chaotic whorl of Akihito's soft and unruly hair in his sleep. Can recall the intoxicating scent.

The man takes a couple more steps into the room in order to get a closer look at the uncharacteristically quiet boy and is about to call his name again when Akihito finally moves to acknowledge him. At first it's nothing, a subtle roll of the head backward onto his shoulder but ever so slowly the boys body unfurls and he sets his skull so far back it should be painful. The unnatural curve of spine surely making the boy's bones groan under the pressure but even so he just smiles. An unfathomable, glowing smile set in silent, frozen laughter that Asami can't place. This is not a look that had ever graced the young photographers face before.

He asks himself if this is really his boy, his Akihito as he recoils a step due to shock, taking in the gleam in Akihito's eyes, the manic grin and the gentle hiss coming from his sweet lips. Surely, surely this can't be Akihito - this stranger before him with such a disturbed and unhinged countenance. Such a stark contrast.

"..sami…"

" _~...Asamiiii…~_ "

It's a disgusting, chilling sound. Never one that should come from a creature as pure as him and Asami's skin prickles in response at the masked malice underlaying the hypnotisingly calm whisper, the words falling so softly from those deliciously familiar lips as a hand squeezes Asami's heart, crushing it.

But still it continues, the sing-song voice beating off of the walls softly before it finally violates Asami's senses along with the still unsettling vision that's both repulsive and strangely alluring at the same time. Asami can't help but stare wide eyed even as a deep sense of dread makes his blood run cold when the boys eyes fly impossibly wide and his head pivots round some more to study his prey, his shoulders and eventually the rest of his body following muscle by muscle and joint by joint as he finally turns to face the man who perhaps for the first time in his life, has no idea how to handle this situation.

What have they done to him? What have they done to Akihito?

The creature poises himself on the bed, moving slowly, purposefully and with an animalistic grace that the crime lord has never seen before associated with the pure energy and freely bounding (and sometimes endearingly clumsy) spirit that is Akihito. His muscles are coiled tightly, his delectable skin covered with a sweaty sheen as he crawls over the mussed bed to finally rise to balance on his knees, cocking his head at Asami like a cat contemplating it's particularly tasty prey. His nostrils flaring, chest rising and falling with an eager, violently charged energy.

The state he's in clearly visible from the bulge straining the front of his boxers.

" _Asami come._  Come here Asami… _Come and and play with me…."_

The man blinks, something clouding Asami's vision for a moment which seems almost like a thick, cloudy fog that mutes his senses and clouds his mind and he has to shake his head to clear it. Akihito's soothing whispers washing over him like a temptingly warm wave of sin and desire. He knows this isn't right, he knows it's not good at all and that he should get out now and never look back. But he just can't seem to find it in him to be able to move at the moment.

"Akihito… _what?"_  He breathes heavier, his heart beating just a little faster and his breathing laboured. He shakes his head again, blinking rapidly.

"..Are you, alright?"

The boy pouts in contemplation, the words registering slowly before he giggles in response and nods the affirmative while rolling his hips, spreading his legs wide. He's never been better, silly Asami. He feels  _electric._

"Asami  _yes I- I want you_ ,  _please?_  Now,  _please Asami_ …I've missed you, I knew you'd come for me - ah-I knew it Asami,  _I've wanted you so bad…so bad all this time…nnh..."_

The tension is thick as Akihito rises up off of the bed and wets his lips, prowling in slow purposeful glides towards his prey and despite Asami knowing full well that the adorable Akihito he knows would rather die than say any of this, do any of this - he just can't tear his eyes or body away. He allows the almost stranger to approach him, he even allows him to pull his head down for a soul devouring kiss and forcefully caress his increasingly and unfathomably willing arousal through his suit pants before that ever present voice in the back of his head screams for him to pull away from this witchcraft, from this compelling and  _bewitching_  creature thats intoxicating his mind. Consuming him.

Is Asami Ryuichi  _really_  being so easily seduced?

The man goes to pull away, he really  _does_  but already this alluring darkness is pulling him in, seeping ever more rapidly into his vision, his mind and judgement and it's all he can do to clutch Akihito's hips with a crushing, bruising force, his lips and teeth ferociously suffocating Akihito's with rushed half breathes falling between their lips because they just can't stop. Even when at some point they've ended up half collapsed on the bed, panting wildly and Asami looking at Akihito like he's going to do nothing short of eat him alive. Tear him limb from limb with teeth.

But all he does is rip the flimsy boxers from the pale, svelte body in one fell swoop and pump the boys cock furiously in hand. Said boy screaming wildly, lost to pure sensation and laughing deliriously as he fucks that hand right back arching his back and trying to tempt his one sole target even more. He wants to see how far he can push him.

He whispers to Asami as he unzips the mans fly with a sly thumb and forefinger, the crime lords huge, erect cock practically springing free of all restraints as he goads the man on with filthy, desperate entireties of want and desire. He moans directly into the mans ear, hot breath washing over Asami's neck before his earlobe receives a vicious bite and all hell breaks loose. The beast unleashed.

There's a deadly growl as the mans powerful hands strike out, flipping the smaller animal beneath him over and holding him down without mercy. Dominating him completely as two fingers plunge in dry, eliciting a cry of delight from the little demon as Asami blindly scissors the beckoning hole quickly and painfully. Blood soon mars his fingers and rains a slow trail down the two lily white thighs before him which he laps up, purring. Another of the writhing animals exquisite moans his reward before two small shaking hands reach eagerly round, spreading himself enticingly wide for his captor. Or is it captive?

Teeth sink in without restraint to the sensitive flesh at the base of Akihito's neck as Asami bucks his hips viciously into the tight heat, warm crimson easing his passage as the snarling beast sets out an inhuman rhythm, pounding into the scorching flesh as the boy wails in delight under him and meets each punishing thrust with one of his own. His hips strain back to meet the big throbbing dick that's stretching him so deliciously and his body shudders, mouth slack and begging for more.  _More._

The slapping sound of flesh on flesh, the squelching of blood and precome and the delirious grunts and wails of pleasure all build into a deafening peak into which the two men are most definitely lost, only knowing what they feel and that they feel one another so intensely. Their balls seize up and they release scorching come almost in unison, Asami into Akihito and Akihito onto the yellowing bed sheets.

They collapse, Asami not bothering to mind the smaller body crushed under his and Akihito doesn't notice either. They only pause to catch their breath, both falling into a short slumber soon after.

**}xXx{**

Asami squeezes the ragged towel cloth, watching with remorse how the crimson water rains back down into the large porcelain bowl he had managed to find in the supplies closet at the end of the room. He had woken up a few minutes ago, dressed but with his shirt ripped and fly undone while his suit pants were covered in an alarming amount of blood. What was worse, soon after he had discovered the blood to be none other than Akihito's. The man has no idea what happened, only knows that he must have totally lost control somehow for Akihito to have ended up like this. But how, when and why?

When he's finished cleaning the sleeping boy's back and ass he gently turns him over to wash his blood and come smeared front, he places a reverent touch to the pale cheek. A silent apology which he likes to think is received as Akihito sighs and leans into the hand, Asami's chest growing tight for a second until he turns away to complete his task.

He smokes after that while he waits for Akihito to wake up having pulled up a chair to sit next to the bed rather than risking being too near him now. He doesn't know what had happened earlier, only knows that it's something to do with how Akihito was behaving and it's connected to whatever is going on here. The man watches on silently as the boy awakens slowly, blinking through the fuzz and rubbing eyes adorably the way he always does, it's so familiar that for a second it looks like Akihito is back to himself again and Asami almost falls for it - almost.

There's silence for some time, Asami finishing up his cigarette as he watches grimly on while the boy sits up and studies the fatigued, shadow lined face before him. Akihito spots Asami's peculiar, concerned expression and starts laughing. Laughing like he can't stop until he does all too suddenly. looking at Asami with eyes wide - so wide and his grin too sinister. He goes to speak, Asami talking over him before the creature has a chance to hypnotise him again.

"Akihito. What happened?"

There's no response, just Akihito moving past the what must be quite substantial pain to get up and make another move on Asami with a sensual grace, a few stray drips of fresh blood making their way down his thighs before he straddles Asami's lap and the man lets him, earnestly searching those still brilliantly shining hazel eyes and looking for the sweet boy Akihito once was. Hoping he can get through to him and praying he can come back.

He hesitates for a long while before finally deciding to avoid the lips that are zoning in on his, a hand gently steering the boy's curious face away. He doesn't want to kiss him like this.

_"Asami-"_

" _Stop_. Whatever you're trying to do.  _Give him back."_

That wasn't a direct command, the man has no idea who it would even be a command for but it's certain that somehow it got through to Akihito as his moonlit skin prickles suddenly before Asami's very eyes. A tension building within the slender body before he laughs softly again, this time directly into Asami's ear.

"Oh? Is the  _big bad_  Asami Ryuichi not getting his way? _..._ "

He sees the glint of the blade travel past his head, concealed in Akihito's palm and for a split second almost goes to stop it, his first instinct to disarm the boy but he decides - he has a theory that this programmed behaviour is meant to be an attack on  _him_ , not Akihito. What the possessed child had just said gave him that idea and from what he's seen, he figures the kid has been wired somehow to carry out an order and he's decided. He'll allow Akihito this much.

He'll allow him this if it means getting him back.

The crime lord embraces his fate and leans back in his chair, blood thumping loudly in his ears and his hands on Akihito's thighs, thumbs drawing lazy circles over the supple flesh. Questioning himself while he takes in the achingly sweet smile sent his way, Akihito's hands are down by his sides no doubt positioning the scalpel in hand to gain the most effective impact. Asami asks himself why, why is he allowing this? Why not cut this kid looses like he would with any other lover who had dared in the past to cross him, or be foolish enough to get entangled in a web of their own demise.

They face each other for a moment, Asami hoping to god that he never sees this look of manic glee of his boys face again as he finally raises the knife, pupils still very much dilated as he, with a shrill laughter plunges the scalpel into Asami's abdomen.

"…"

The man only grunts at the impact, blood immediately pooling around the wound as he closes his eyes in a desperate prayer. Please let Akihito come back now.  _Please._

There's a few seconds after he blinks them open again, just enough time for Asami to second guess himself and second guess himself  _again_  as Akihito looks at him with a mild curiosity, at his face and into his eyes before his own beautiful orbs sweep down his muscular body hidden under a dishevelled suit to the now steadily bleeding wound. The boy reaches out his fingertips, dragging them through the blood soaking the expensive white shirt and over the exposed skin and reaching them to his mouth with Asami looking on grimly, heartbroken as he realises he may  _never_  get this boy back after all.

He closes his eyes and swears _that these are not tears_  forming under his eyelashes.

The wild purring kitten on his lap licks at his fingers appreciatively, moaning at the metallic, warm taste of Asami's blood and he looks to the man after having been taken by a fresh wave of arousal. He takes the fingers from his mouth, running them along Asami's lips, closed eyelids leaving a trail of saliva and blood before leaning forward, tongue out and mouth poised to beg for entry, staring into the mans strangely pained face when suddenly Akihito jolts, convulsing as if stricken or electrified.

Akihito's body shivers, eyes staring unseeing before rolling backwards in his head completely from the sheer agony wracking his entire being before eventually, his spine turns absolutely rigid.

He can't help but cry out as he finally slumps forward unconscious, Asami having to act fast and catch him by the arms lest he drive the sharp blade in any deeper.

After that though, it only takes until the next breath to wake Akihito, his large eyes blinking open in a panic as he hyperventilates, believing he's still in the room with doctor Yuri - no. Eduard  _Arbatov._  His mind screams, his veins and heart protesting from sheer strain as his pulse sky rockets and because of the blind panic it takes him a good few seconds to realise he's not alone. That he's naked, in so much pain but straddling a rather comfortable and warm lap. A warm lap he knows very well.

Akihito starts to really panic then, wondering if he's seeing things and  _praying_  that he's not.

"A-Asami? Wh-Wha-"

He reaches out a hand eagerly to confirm the mans existence and sees the smeared blood on his fingers which makes his bottom lip pout in curiosity, wondering if it has anything to do with the pain he's feeling. _'Oh'_  he mumbles to himself before looking to Asami to ask  _'what'_  but something's odd about him. The sweat on his brow, the scowl marring the usually infuriatingly unreadable face. There's something glinting in the moonlight just lingering in his peripheral vision and looks down with a bewildered blink (expecting to see maybe the pervert Asami's belt unbuckled and a frightening erection winking up at him) but instead, sees the handle of a blade partially concealed beneath Asami's ripped shirt. Then, the dark pool of blood.

_"What?"_

"Asami-"

"Asami?"

"Asami what's - y _ou're hurt_!"

He reaches out again now more urgently with both hands but Asami takes them into his own, shushing Akihito. Utterly relieved.

"...Pay no mind."

Akihito shakes immediately, adrenaline, panic and pure fear making his face screw up in a tearful and urgent concern. He goes to desperately shake off Asami's hands though as gently as possible as not to disturb the injured man too much.

"Huh? W-what are you saying, baka! Fuck - we need-shit! We need to get you to a doctor-we need-!"

A flood of memories suddenly overwhelm Akihito, Mei, the deranged doctor with the needle telling him about the research they've been doing here - finding out he's really an Arbatov. Everything going black. He shivers and a renewed fear takes over, mounting into a full blown panic attack.

"Asami! We, we have to get out of here-! I'll go and get some bandages or something and then we can leave and find a hospital-"

Despite the pain he goes to stand, Asami still clutching his small wrists but he pulls away asking with an increasingly broken voice to be released. The man obviously isn't in his right mind and he needs to get him to a hospital quick. There's a weird noise though from the man and Asami grabs him, kissing him into silence while he holds him tightly by the biceps. Tasting Akihito's tears. Tears for him.

"…You're not going anywhere, stay here…stay here Akihito."

Akihito cries out and goes to pull back again off of the man's lap, angry tears streaming down his face knowing he has to get Asami out of here - this is all his fault. This fucking place. What can he do?

Clenching his teeth he wrenches is body away, stumbling the first few agonising steps and having to ignore the pained grunt coming from his lover's lips so he can raid the nurses station and grab a small pile of towels, trying to rip strips to prepare a makeshift tourniquet working through his own paralysing pain and not paying attention to the fact he's cold, naked and that his ass seems to be bleeding. He's trying not to think that Eduard could have done something terrible to him. He turns back toward the chair and still shaking badly, reaches for the scalpel so he can take it out to wrap the wound but a gentle hand on his, stops him.

"It's better if we leave it in, pass me those strips would you?…"

Akihito tears up again, guilt eating away at him like a deadly virus - he let this happen to Asami. He doesn't know how but something is telling him it's  _all because of him._

He passes the man the strips of fabric and watches as Asami knots them together roughly so he can tie them around his abdomen keeping the scalpel in place where it's buried blade deep within his diaphragm and Akihito looks on powerlessly, praying that it's at least missed any organs and praying they can make it out of the the building alive. He has a sickening feeling though, one connected to the now dry blood marring his hands.

Asami looks up after he fixes the last knot, ready to get going when he sees Akihito staring at him with bloodshot, stricken eyes - pale as a ghost. He whispers to Asami, clutching his own arms and marking the porcelain skin with red welts making his naked, trembling form look so vulnerable. Miserable.

"…Did. Did I? Did I do this to you? Asami?… _I think I did….I'm-"_

Asami says nothing, only holds out a hand as commandingly as he always does which silences Akihito immediately and he finds himself making the slow journey to the chair, to his lover who grasps his hips making the boy gasp as Asami soothes the fresh bruises lining those slim hips, placing his lips on the slim, pale stomach before him. Holding Akihito close. He had already accepted his fate when he chose to let Akihito's scalpel finish it's work - he would allow Akihito this much if it means he would come back. And he doesn't regret a thing.

"It's completely my fault. I already knew what a troublesome brat you are..."

Akihito laughs both at the familiar (and right now most welcome insult) and the ticklish, comforting feeling of Asami's face against his skin, a half sob leaks from his mouth and tears flow freely from under grateful lashes as he shuts his eyes to the pain he's feeling throughout his entire being. This is the second time Asami has bled for him and he's gone and got himself caught in the clutches of yet another madman. He runs his fingers tentatively through the mans unusually unkempt hair, a long contented sigh Asami's only response before he places another swift peck at the very top of Akihito's belly button and moves the boy back gently.

Akihito helps Asami to stand, allowing himself to be pulled forward into a tender kiss after but avoiding the scalpel still protruding painfully from Asami's stomach. He clutches at the lapels of Asami's jacket, creasing the once immaculate suit as the mans hands trail possessively down Akihito's back. They get all the way down to his ass before the teasing bastard finally pulls away. Smirking. How can he have a knife sticking out of him and still look this damn good?

He leans closer, lips merely millimetres away from Akihito's nose.

"Perhaps we should get you some clothes, or would you prefer my jacket?"

The man laughs as he watches his troublesome photographers face light up in a blush with the realisation he's still naked, Akihito casting his eyes around the room nervously before settling on an abandoned white lab coat. Slung carelessly over a chair. He gingerly marches over and plucks it from where it lay, dressing in it quickly and buttoning it up but having to roll up the sleeves several times as if this had fit a giant.

He nods back at Asami and the pair prepare to go, leaving together through the blood marred doors and journeying silently through the halls. It's only when they reach the same dark stairwell where Akihito had heard those very first screams that he stops. Reliving that sickening feeling that had arose on hearing those gurgling, desperate wails echo along the walls and glass.

He unconsciously seeks out Asami who is behind him and glances back, searching for a shred of warmth and comfort in such a cold, dark place. Akihito turns to the man with a nervous laugh, not daring to step just yet any deeper into the relentless darkness.

"Asami….you OK? S-shouldn't you have an arm over my shoulder or something?"

"I'm alright."

"Y-yeah"

Well that's that. He takes a deep breath and begins on down the stairs winching with the pain in his ass and feeling a fresh few stray drips of blood journey down his legs and he feels sick, praying to god that Eduard didn't do anything - but he did didn't he? He somehow had made Akihito hurt Asami. The last thing he'd ever want to do.

An arm silently finds it's way over his shoulders as if sensing the boy's tremulous thoughts. A hand gives a quick, reassuring squeeze of his upper arm before just resting quite contentedly. The men now descending into the building together.

"This better?"

Akihito pauses, his automatic impulse to shove the hand off (for the sake of tradition) but the glint of the blades handle soon catches his eye again, making it all of a sudden hard to breathe and he can't find it in him to make a snappy comeback or say no so the boy just nods with a grunt of admission, holding onto the wrist that lay on his shoulder with all his might.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Righty - we're all caught up bar the small Omake which will be posted ASAP.
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes...
> 
> Warnings: swearing, over enthusiastic touching of Akihito's cute ass body, minor violence, possible crappy translation from Russian as I had to use Google translate...

**}xXx{**

A pained groan of frustration slips past Akihito's lips as he breaks away from Asami's side in a rush of panic, the image before him being most unwelcome thus causing him to launch himself towards the doors that until now had been their only known route to the buildings exit.

The photographer makes a strangled noise brought about by the still fresh, raw wound and also from the sheer effort it takes to rattle and pull at the doors in the futile hope of breaking the immovable chains that've found themselves wound so meticulously around the wrought brass door handles. The handles of the one door they need to use in order to escape. In order for Asami to reach help - how cruel can this person be? To keep them locked here like this.

_"Damnit!-Shit!"_

The photographer rattles the stubbornly unbudging doors with a shout as Asami watches on, eying the ominously heavy padlock and chains. A stark statement that declares they will not leave until this macabre game has reached it's end. It's perhaps troubling though, Asami thinks, that the chains seem to have merely materialised in place along with the rust clinging so casually to them, a cold reminder of what could have transpired as the pair slept upstairs in the infirmary and begging the question - how long had they really been out for? Minutes, hours? Or days?

While Asami ponders on the disturbing possibilities, ones that all involve a premeditated and calculated scheme, Akihito rattles and bangs at the doors with a strangled cry, an increasing sense of panic starting to override his senses as a voice at the back of his head tells him over and over again that each moment Asami spends in here is going to mean increased blood loss and greater chance of infection.

It is true that the pair had made it slowly down the several dark but moonlit flights of stairs only to find most of them locked up tight with identically thick rusted chains and wrought iron padlocks but Akihito had tried to shrug it off, he hadn't taken this route before and for all he knows it could be a regular occurrence in this place - something that had been established as part of the nightly routine for the safety of the patients but no, logic won't allow that scenario. Not with that man in charge. Nothing would mean that their exit would be blocked off so strategically either. So coincidentally.

But even so, even if he can't escape this nightmare - he wants Asami to get out of here.

Suddenly, there's a tickling sensation at the back of Akihito's neck, one reminiscent of a fly or mosquito on a late summers evening and he flinches, though relaxing when the presence revels itself to be Asami. A large, warm hand at the base of his neck, fingers playing with the soft skin there but, though comforting, it also startles Akihito. The gentle treatment that granted, not often afforded by Asami would under normal circumstances be a little more welcome, but now it only serves to drive the metaphorical knife in deeper. Here is Asami. Injured. And he is still so -

It's only then Akihito realises he's crying, panting both from the swirling emotion and from the exertion of wrestling with the immovable, impossible chains. The photographer gasps and moves away with a startled glance, his back to Asami as he hastily wipes all traces of his angry tears away. Ashamed to show any weakness in front of the usually infallible, indescrructable man, especially while he's injured like this. How is it anyway that Asami is the one who has been stuck with a blade and Akihito is still the one who feels wounded. Weak in the face of such seeming perfection and grace, such raw power and passion.

He hears rustling though and a low. mumbling voice behind him, Asami releasing the grip he had on his abdomen with a wince as he withdraws his gun from it's holster, cocking it and aiming towards the door.

"Cover your ears Akihito."

The boy spins around and quickly clutches the sides of his head, hoping to drown out any of the deafening noise from the gun that he thinks will always fill him with a notable sense of dread and fear. The photographer hastily steps back with squint in his eyes and snaps them tightly shut soon after, missing how the crime lord holds the Glock steady despite his wound, aiming the _lighter than usual_ gun right at the padlock. One swift press of the trigger and this will all be over.

Asami's finger squeezes down on the trigger upon the next exhale and Akihito's body tenses in anticipation, waiting. Bracing himself for the inevitable -

Nothing.

After the next breath Akihito uncovers his ears reluctantly, staring at Asami questioningly and noticing the man's intense frown and even more tense posture as he takes a short breath with a sigh.

"It would seem that  _someone_ , has swiped the bullets."

The man presses down on the trigger again several times just for good measure and a series of rapid clicks are heard echoing around the dark staircase, he had thought his Glock was lighter than it should be but had put it down to is low blood pressure, deceiving his senses. Any other day he would have no problem in kicking down the doors, beat them down but now. Now he knows he'll be doing irreparable damage if he pushes his body too far.

The crime lord places the useless weapon back within the shelter of his jacket.

There's silence, both lost in equally pensive thoughts of how else they can escape but Akihito drops his hands completely and starts forward blindly, brushing past Asami as he approaches the doors in pained exasperation. Enough with this game. Enough already! His own discomfort is long forgotten as the boy shakes the doors again and kicks them, hits them and ultimately throws his body at the implacable barrier only serving to get more and more worked up as he screams at the injustice of being trapped in here like animals. Asami's injured and in desperate need of a Doctor.

"Akihito…"

Asami pulls Akihito away, this time with hands on his trembling arms trying to pry the distraught boy away from the cruel, alluring view of freedom through the glass but Akihito bats him away with a shout and starts forward again, only stopping when a sharp breath and soft grunt reaches his ears.

He had jostled Asami, the scalpel lodged deep within this diaphragm.

He looks around in time to see a fresh wave of blood seep from the wound and a hand crushes Akihito's heart and lungs suddenly, stealing the very breath from him and he rushes back to the man, hands set tentatively on Asami's chest as he whispers apologies again and again, the taller mans own hands reaching up to wipe the boys guilt ridden tears away. Asami's own way of telling him not to worry even as he also steals a glance through the barred off glass, staring into the hall which is so teasingly withholding freedom from their grasp.

He knows know that they have no other choice now but to go back up within the stairwell and look for an unlocked door to make their way from there, to find another way out.

"Looks like we'll have to play this game just a little longer…"

With a final ruffle of his hair Akihito draws himself up with a vigorous nod, that's right - he's been in far worse situations than this before right? Right? Dealing with gangsters and old perverts one after the other, guys always after either his ass or his life. He sets his burning eyes on Asami and the man smirks approvingly, the embers rekindling in those hazel eyes once more. There's nothing like it.

Asami turns to walk back on up the steps but again and suddenly - he feels another tug on his jacket.

"A-Asami! The person behind this - shit I'm sorry I didn't say, Doctor Yuri-no-he's an Arbatov. He's  _Eduard Arbatov."_

The man turns back to look at Akihito, not knowing any of the staff here apart from the young woman he had encountered before but Yuri - Eduard Arbatov. That name he knows.

That man had gained some notoriety back in the nineties as a taboo challenging surgeon, openly promoting the use of drug trials and research on prison inmates in Russia and campaigning for funding in use for biological weaponry and warfare. Mainly the impossible dream of creating 'super soldiers.' Programming human beings into mindless drones, susceptible to mind control for better performance in battle. To create monsters from men.

And from what he's seen here, the crime lord can't help but think that  _that_  particular monster of a man may just have succeeded.

"You're sure? Arbatov?"

Akihito looks down with a nod, shadows belying the pained lines of tension in his face while the man takes out his phone. Just incase. With a sigh though he soon places it back in his breast pocket, admitting defeat where phone signal is concerned and renewing himself for the fight. He'll get Akihito out of here, even if he has to stay behind.

He ruffles the boy's hair again and leads the way back up the steps, holding his stomach and trying to stem the flow of blood.

"Let's go."

**}xXx{**

Floor after floor, they journey deeper into the dark building, sending them into a winding web of corridors and hidden rooms they had not even known existed, had not known could exist what with the relatively modest size at least judging from the view outside. They journey like this until the night sky transforms into a purplish, white hue, the rain clouds clearing finally to make way for the first rays of sun. Threatening to rise even as Asami grows paler.

They do though, eventually happen upon a particular corridor, a quiet yet familiar one which Akihito recognises finally and he exclaims, catching his partners eye as he gives sharp nod back - he recognises this place too. It's the corridor housing the recreational room and furthermore - there seems to be the tell tale noise of activity coming from within.

A rasping, groaning and shuffling of feet against cold tiles.

 _"_ _-Arbatov."_

Asami and Akihito round the corner and the crime lord looks to the former surgeon with disgust, the man stood proudly and at his leisure in the middle of the room and surrounded by a sea of groaning, moaning, tortured souls. Patients and Asylum staff alike. His puppets circle the room like a ghostly tide, eyes wide though unseeing as they shuffle from corner to corner and bounce absent mindedly off of the many chairs and small tables lining the walls. Resembling cattle, or lambs - headed for slaughter.

The mans attention shifts lightly to Asami and he gives a small wave of the hand, a welcoming gesture. The casual upturn of the mans lips enough to make Akihito's stomach churn in disgust.

"Ah, good morning. My apologies - you're after these?"

He says, holding up the keys with a keen grin and withdrawing them when an outraged Akihito starts forward, though only to be stopped by a word from Asami.

"Wait."

"And you must be Asami-san. Pleased to make your acquaintance…Akihito-kun here has told me all about you"

"Wha-? N-no! No Asami I didn-"

"Oh? I'm afraid you did, young man."

Eduard laughs and shifts to lean back against one of the high wing-back chairs, the ugly yet quaint chintz pattern a stark contrast to the animalistic glint in the imposing mans eyes, the twisted smirk on the mans lips. This disgraced doctor must be a top grade sociopath to have hidden his madness so flawlessly before.

"It _is_ pitiable though, how little your little whore knows about you…Asami Ryuichi…" He pauses to chuckle again, Akihito flaring up delightfully as Asami's own eyes narrow. So this had been an attempted attack on him after all?

They tense as the deranged doctor reaches into his lab coat but all Eduard does is take out a small flip pad. Absentmindedly turning the pages until he finds the data he's after.

"…Ah, here we are. Birthdate. August 4. Age. 35. Good Akihito, that's a good start. Parents names and occupations. Unkown.  _Tut, tut._ Net worth. Unkown. Illegal operations undertaken - oh, this one poor Akihito couldn't answer at all, he wasn't sure. Guns? Drugs? The sex trade? All he has is speculation, what an empty relationship the two of you share…"

He laughs once more, Akihito bristling quickly with indignation from hearing that he had been so ruthlessly questioned about Asami when he must have been unconscious! This bastard!

"Tsugi. Tell me about how you feel…tell me how he makes you  _come, Akihito…_ "

It takes a while for Akihito to register the next question reeled off the list, the change in tone. The words that roll off the mans tongue so seductively.  _How he, how Asami makes me_ \- ?

The photographer gasps, eyes flying wide as somewhere he realises that this man had the nerve, the chance, the unhindered opportunity to delve into the deepest recesses of his mind. To the places that even Akihito is too afraid to go - to the place where he keeps his feelings for Asami locked up tight, denied light or acknowledgement lest he realise just how much he loves the man by his side. How he wouldn't be able to live without him. No, he never wants Asami or even himself, to know.

"No!"

A smiling Eduard doesn't finish that sentence before Akihito launches at him, the pain in his ass forgotten as he swipes the little note book out of Eduard's slack hand. Because he lets him. The surgeon easily grabs the boy, a strong arm sliding around the svelte waist as another large hand takes the small, somewhat fragile wrists and crushing them. Subduing the kicking photographer. Asami damns his lack of speed, the wealth of blood soaking his clothes and bandages telling of how his body must he weakening by the minute. It's been hours already.

"You'll stay where you are Asami, if you don't want to be ripped apart."

He smirks at the tension in the mans face, his own smirking lips pressing down on Akihito's ear before the boy bucks his body in defiance and spits, though being forced into a deathly quiet when Eduard frees his wrists to take quick grip of his larynx, squeezing until he can't breath and Akihito's bones threaten to break. He whispers something Asami can't catch into his boy's ear. Akihito stricken before his eyes immediately roll up and into the back of his head. His body falling limp in his captors arms and Asami starts forward despite himself, the view of Akihito, lifeless. Too much to bear.

"He's fine, he was just being a nuisance. Lets chat some more though Asami - I'd quite like to get to know the man that murdered my brother."

The crime lord relents the death stare he held over Eduard and relaxes infinitesimally, also ignoring the limp form in the mans arms in favour of playing this cursed game - a front of course. Sure he'll play along for now but as soon as there's an opening he'll eliminate this vermin just as he did Yuri, he'll have his eyes out and he'll be taking Akihito out of here for good. Never to look back.

Asami smirks and forces his body to take on a less threatening stance, forcing it into a state of relaxation despite his injury and the rage roaring through his veins. He asks in a pleasant voice what Eduard would like to talk about.

"Hmm? Well, for starters I'd like to know how you broke the hypnotism on Akihito. It's normally _unbreakable_  but, lately…Akihito and both you and one other patient I've had here are the only ones who have shown resistance to it…it's most intriguing really,  _though I do have my own suspicions_  as to why that is..."

The man looks pointedly to Asami's wound as he himself doesn't have to force a smirk as it comes quite naturally this time, no one would dare to ask him to help them for free after all. This man clearly has no idea who he's talking to.

"Oh, it's feedback you're after? Sure. Give me Akihito and I'll tell you all."

"Aha a man who knows how to bargain…how amusing..."

Eduard seems to consider Asami for a moment, his arms sure are getting a little third from holding the dead weight in his arms anyway. He regards the unconscious lump with a slight frown for a moment too, seemingly reaching a decision before he whispers to it again. louder this time but in Russian. Though Asami speaks it fluently…

"просыпаться"

_Awaken_

"No matter Asami-san, on second thought - I'll observe it myself…That is, if you can manage the feat a second time…"

The mans eyes smile as his lips rest lightly against Akihito's ear, the boys eyes slowly blinking open and taking some moments to focus before he sees his lover, he smiles. The boy gradually takes his own weight again, his master setting him loose after one last stroke to the cheek, observing with affection the familiar, seductive arch of his back, the knowing look in his wild eyes and a pink tongue darting out to moisten tempting lips. He decides to undo and remove the lab coat Akihito is wearing and Asami growls in response to the boys nakedness, a warning for the bastard that dares to touch what's his and his eyes seem to glow as they take in Akihito now. The fog creeping into Asami's vision immediately as he sets his eyes onto the sinful creature's blood smeared skin, the beast within threatening to take over completely and take the boy right here for all to see.

A bewitched Akihito turns to him though, face swivelling dangerously around again before his body finally seems to give in on fear of his head being separated from shoulders and he glides to Asami. Moving through the other still circling victims of hypnosis towards his prey who can't help but watch him with a great, primal interest - the boy. His boy never failing to awaken his libido and it seems, he's awakening something in the other drones too. Many of them stopping to watch the boys graceful form moving through the room. Men and women alike and it's all being feverishly written down in Eduards little note book, he all the while muttering to himself with great interest. This creature is truly something special after all. No wonder his brother had taken an interest in him.

"Akihito - Akihito, wake up."

Asami finds it increasingly hard to breathe, breaths growing ragged but he clamps down ruthlessly on his arousal and approaches Akihito to shake the boy by the shoulders, an entreaty that he needs his Akihito to hear. He can't loose him now - not when they're so close to getting out.

The figure just grumbles playfully in response though, drawing the attention of the drones all around them and they can't help but move closer - wide, unseeing eyes drawn to the vague shape but bright light cast by the boy as his hands come down with the intention of rousing Asamis arousal to life and he slides his lips to the mans neck, kissing and nipping at flesh even as he moves his eager body closer though unknowingly dislodging the blade in Asami's diaphragm further, breath catching as it presses further into the thick ring of muscle but Asami only grunts at the impact, nausea threatening his vision for a moment as a fresh wave of blood spills down his front, trickling over the boy's finger tips.

Some drones lick their lips, some moan lightly and some tentative finger tips even trace teasing circles over themselves mimicking Akihito's own slim hands on Asami in response to the display, but certainly it's all eyes in the room that are now truly fixed on Akihito. And Eduard thinks this is a breakthrough.

"….Ah-Asa…mi?"

Akihito feels a wet warmth spread over his hands before he comes to completely, confused hazel eyes blinking up at the crime lord, bewildered at how he ended up in such close proximity to Asami all of a sudden - had the man pulled him away from Eduard? And what's on his hands - and why the hell is he naked?!

Suddenly there's movement and the entire mass of people turn to face the pair, hemming them in with bodies rigid and a tension humming through the group as one. Them having been ordered to ready themselves for something by their keeper, who is watching Akihito with greedy eyes. It seems that the only way to break the spell after all. Is love.

How horrifically cliché.

Akihito starts both at the realisation there are so many eyes on him and the fact that he's so bare so he dances around on the spot, looking around for something - anything that can cover his modesty (what's left of it anyway, who knows what he just did when he was out) though he doesn't have to search for long as a jacket rests itself on his shoulders, just like one had before. The familiarity makes Akihito look to Asami in silent gratitude, the man returning a knowing smirk of his own and he reaches out, herding Akihito behind him as the boy goes to exclaim in defiance. Though stopping short upon seeing the state of his hands, the state of Asami. Maybe this time he should keep his mouth shut.

It's a stalemate then as Eduard places his notepad carefully away, Asami's sharp eyes catching every move and scoping out any weak links in the human wall surrounding. The problem with this form of hypnosis seems to be the speed and the strength that they are granted, like the restraints placed upon muscle and bone are forgotten in the face of a more urgent demand. To fulfil a simple, but deadly. Command.

_"Get them."_

And just like that the zombies march forward, hands striking out of nowhere and grasping at flesh to subdue these newly discovered, remarkable test subjects. Ones with passion so potent it can shine through hypnosis techniques that have been carefully and painstakingly trialled for the past twenty years. All that work, so easily undone. This is fascinating in itself. Eduard would love to know how to break such a bond, to know how he can make these two destroy each other. Utterly.

"You know…." Eduard drawls lazily over the din of groaning and rustling, Asami allowing the intruding hands while Akihito swats away the more eager ones reaching for places they really shouldn't be. "…It highlights a flaw in my research that is quite humbling, amusing even. I have been testing easily throughout the years, unhindered in my search for perfection using societies most pathetic leeches that live thanks to the goodwill of others and the ones with nothing to offer the world. I was giving them a purpose by allowing them to help me make history. To make a super soldier capable of anything, achievers of the impossible. And I've used hundreds, thousands of people but, it's very interesting that you should come along now and show me a most intriguing variable. Yes…I see my brothers interest,  _I see it very well…"_

A hand finds it's way over Akihito's mouth and his eyes scream for Asami, the man though facing issues of his own as he tries to protect his vulnerable wound from the clumsy limbs swung his way.

Akihito cries out as clambering bodies swarm around them more, the drones all vying for the position closest to Akihito and some even let go of Asami having lost interest in him completely - commands getting over written by the sweet noises and curses being ripped from the boys lips as clammy hands and wet tongues invade the jacket, quickly removing it completely before the greedy mouths and clawing fingers can roam freely over the sweat slicked skin.

Akihito grows quickly overwhelmed by the sensation worming it's way allover his flesh. His body being worshipped by so many, men and women exploring every inch of his body. He, like some platter at an orgy held aloft by the crowd is unable to help but arch his back in pleasure as his nipples are tugged and licked, his cock and balls are kissed and bitten wildly and several scorching tongues all battle to breach his entrance. Asami casts his eyes around urgently, incensed and sees it, Just behind Eduard. The television set.

He'll burn it. He'll burn it all to the ground.

"Uh-unh! A-! Asa…mi-! H-hel-uh!"

A furious Asami launches at Eduard, the man as transfixed on the scene before him as his zombie slaves so he's somewhat caught off guard by the right hook sent his way, not Asami's best by any means due to the wound but it still manages to get Arbatov out of his way and he makes it to the television set - switching on the somewhat antiquated machine and casting a glance back, Eduard unconscious on the floor and Akihito, Akihito looking at him with pleading, but furious and disgusted eyes from his position atop the alter, the orgy of flesh. He's going to be in the shower for months after this.

The crime lord grabs the television set, noting but not caring how his wound opens up a little more - fresh blood gushing as he hurls the live Television to the heavily curtained wall opposite, the cable ripping from the wall as it smashes to the floor in flames.

That finally seems to rouse some of the figures enough when their basic survival instincts kick in and they back away from the flames, Akihito getting dropped just as Asami reaches him and he takes him into his arms. The photographer shivers in utter disgust and casts the man a deathly  _'if you fucking dare tell anyone about this I'll cut your fucking balls off'_  kind of look but he just gathers up the discarded jacket and drapes it on Akihito's shoulders once more, making his way over to where Eduard lay by the steadily spreading flames to swipe the keys for the exit.

Akihito takes a breath and follows him through the flames.

**}xXx{**

"Asami-sama!"

Kirishima's car swerves to a stop and he jogs up to Asami and Akihito as a fleet of sleek black cars also screech into the parking lot just in time, the bespectacled man ignoring the boys severe state of undress, the blood between his legs and the fact that he appears to be covered in hundreds of hickeys. It's not his place to question his employer after all. Asami acknowledges his man with a nod, though keeps his position with his arm over Akihito's shoulders as they make it down the front stone steps, smoke just starting to billow out of the building behind them.

A jerk of Asami's shirt sleeve has him remembering the promise he had begrudgingly made Akihito just a few minutes prior.

"Kirishima, have the patients and staff inside taken to hospital. Sign for their fees. Have Eduard dropped off at the Yokohama warehouse-" A pout from Akihito has Asami smirking. The boy had been adamant that Eduard should be handled by the authorities (and that he should be the first to break the story in the press, of course.) But this is Asami he's dealing with after all, he knows he's lucky to get this much and be grateful that the man isn't just letting the people in there burn to death.

"Whatever, lets go home Asami - I need a bath."

And so, a limping and mostly naked young man and his anaemic crime lord lover make their way to the nearest Ambulance as his men deal with the scene, the aftermath of the nightmare that is the Morning Light Asylum.


	6. Omake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One fateful night Akihito is approached by a stranger who requests his help in finding a lost relative, leading him to the Morning Light Asylum and into a strange and macabre nightmare. One that will leave him questioning everything he knows. Is this all simply fate? Or, is it somebody's idea of a twisted game, one made to trap Akihito in darkness forever?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Swearing, explicit Yaoi.

**OMAKE**

**}xXx{**

The long distance call takes a while to connect, the phone ringing several times before it's finally picked up by a cheerful voice.

"Hello?"

_"_ _-Mikhail."_

"Oh! Asami, what a nice surprise. How are you?"

"What do you think? I've just gotten back from a meet with your uncle. "

" _Hmm?_  Which u-ah."

"I see this is no surprise to you."

"Well uncle did say he was off to Japan, you know what he's like…"

"How are you going to compensate me?"

"Compen-now hold on, why should I have to suffer because of that idiot?"

"You just admitted culpability. Your knowledge of his coming to Japan. Make it good. He escaped before he could be taken into custody by my men and Akihito is still affected by the hypnosis used on him."

"Ah yeah, he'll do that…but, I don't think he'll bother you again - I just had a call this morning, he asked me if France is nice this time of year….Oh Asami, you mentioned Akihito? Hmm, I'll tell you something good. That's my compensation."

_"_ _Arbatov-"_

"Now, now don't be like that, you'll love it you'll see! The hypnosis is mostly centred on uncles drug concoction, the effects lasting around week at a time, tops! So ergo, your sweet little Akihito will still be pliable, for moulding - for a week…"

"Hn…pliable, you say?"

"Yes that's the spirit! So it works like this, I don't know everything, but enough for this."

_"_ _Spill."_

"So, instructions are given in Russian,  _naturally,_  after you've commanded the person to sleep, give them the command you want,  _whatever you want_. Next you need to give the order to-"

"Awaken."

"That's it! You're already a pro. Now, whadd'ya say? We even now?"

"Hm. I'll let it slide for now, but if he so much as sets foot in Japan, it's over for him. And you. Understand?"

"Blimey, alright. I'll advise him not to bother you and your boy-toy again…"

"Good."

Asami hangs up on Mikhail, point made and surprisingly some rather interesting information gained, that anyone can order the drones to do anything. Given they use the right language and word order. It's certainly tempting. And Akihito  _does_  need to be punished after all, after going and getting hypnotised, sticking him with a scalpel and going and getting molested on top of that. Yep, he's got it coming.

The man laughs darkly in the sanctuary of his home office, his poor unsuspecting Akihito none the wiser as he sits in the living room at the dining table, feverishly typing everything he remembers from the last few days into a front page worthy news article. A tale of conspiracy, human experimentation and a new, terrifying method of bio warfare that needs to be dissevered and countered before it's too late. Akihito had insisted to Asami that the men retrieve his camera as he had helped the crime lord into the ambulance, the proof the photographer had gathered over his time at Morning Light too priceless to allow it to go up in flames.

Kirishima hadn't needed to search for long, finding Akihito's stuff all packed up nice and respectfully in the lobby, a note attached apologising for having to confiscate his films but thanking him for his hard work was sealed and placed on top of the rucksack by Eduard. Yes, seemingly the man had planned this through, no real intention to harm Akihito or Asami, only mess with them and escape just in the nick of time. And without a trace. The patients and staff had all been successfully evacuated by Asami's men, listing and accounting for as many as they could but through it all no one could find Eduard through the flames, the man already having escaped to make his get away.

Asami makes his way back into the living room, Akihito's face one of intense concentration as he types with as much fury and speed as his fingers allow, trying to recall each face, each memory as the words tumble onto the page one after the other.

"Akihito, it's been forty five minutes. Must be time for another shower by now…"

All he gets in response is a middle finger shot over the boy's shoulder, Akihito ignoring Asami's pissy goading in favour of getting this story to his editor as soon as possible. He doesn't know what the man will say, whether he'll be laughed out of the building but he knows he has to try. People died, Eduard is one crazy son-of-a-bitch and Akihito wants him to be held accountable.

Though in regards to the shower comment, it's true Asami does have a point this time, Akihito has taken shower after shower and bath after bath since they had made it away from the Asylum early this morning, even going so far as to order Asami's men to go and get as much soap as humanly possible from nearby shops as he waited at the hospital for his lover to get all stitched up.

He still feels those hands, tongues, teeth and lips on his body. He pauses in typing and gives another repulsed shudder.

"Maybe I will go and have another shower…"

Asami laughs from the doorway where he was leaning leisurely to observe Akihito, though the chuckle still soon proves to be too much for the mans stomach muscles, Asami wincing a little as the stitches pull again. Reluctantly remembering how the doctor had also not so subtly told him to refrain from anything too  _strenuous_  over the next two weeks. Though it's been far too long already.

Hands place themselves gently on his sides, Akihito looking up at him with concern.

"You OK? Who'd have thought…just when you developed a sense of humour too…"

Akihito laughs this time, the Crime Lords eyes narrowing on the irresistible little trouble maker and a wicked idea forming in his head. Asami touches his face and his cold heart melts a little, poor, unsuspecting Akihito. He's going to pay for letting not one, but countless people touch him last night.

He had never thought about having Akihito that way, the way is is thinking about him now. Using him as he would a simple pet, docile and submissive. Could he bear not seeing that fire light up those eyes? Those lips that defy, deny, beg and moan? Could he do it, just once? Just to see?

He leans down, still caressing Akihito's soft cheek as he steals a kiss, his boy melting as he always does and Asami moves along his jaw line, kissing his way to the boys earlobe where he bites down, rewarding with a small gasp and moan. He whispers into Akihito's ear.

"спать"

_Sleep_

He catches the light, sleeping form gracefully in his arms and takes a moment to watch that peaceful face, running a solitary index finger along those pink luscious lips. He hold him close, the boys weight pulling on his stitches a little, not that he minds. He'll never mind if it's Akihito. The man talks to him, almost sweetly, almost silently as not to be overheard as these are words for Akihito, only for his Akihito and he breathes heavier now, keen anticipation already tightening and swirling deep in his belly.

He can feel his boys body hum in response to the words as he whispers them seductively, temptingly and he wonders how Akihito will take to the challenge, how his beautiful boy will show him what he wants to see and the thought makes Asami harden, the thought of Akihito still surprising him as he always does even under hypnosis so exciting, he wants to know what Akihito will do. If he will once again, meet and exceed his expectations.

His breath catches with a sudden thought, as he thinks back to the stupid gift wrapped package he had picked up just yesterday on a whim, sat on the chair in the bedroom.

Asami lays Akihito on the couch and undresses him, laying kisses and brushing lips and finger tips over the trembling skin as he drinks in the sight, one he'll never tire of, one he'll always hunger for. He feels a surge of anger upon seeing the grazes, bruises and countless hickies soiling what's his but he reassures himself that Akihito _is_  his, not theirs. He knows this. He knows it and what he's asked Akihito to do will only reinforce this again. Always.

The man sweeps off to the bedroom, returning to dress his special little lover in the specially selected garment and places a last kiss at the soft dip between hip and stomach before finally sliding them up those long, slender legs so he can stand back to admire his work. Red satin was definitely the right choice. So striking against against Akihito's pale skin.

Asami leans forward, lips a scant centimetre away from Akihitos as he commands him again, he wants to see his boy's eyes immediately upon waking. He wants to make sure it's still his Akihito that he's waking, not the little demon Eduard had turned him into when  _he_  had hypnotised him.

"просыпаться"

_Awaken._

And Akihito does, his huge, brilliant eyes blinking once, twice and finally landing on Asami with a mild pleading look, with adoration and as expected it does irk the crime lord a little to see that those eyes aren't full of the usual  _'oh yeah? Well why don't you just make me, old man!'_  The eyes on him instead portraying a need, sexual, emotional - a love there that Asami had asked for. Surprising even himself, but it's what he had wanted Akihito to show him. To affirm.

_'_ _Akihito. Show me how much you want me, show me how you love me.'_

The boy raises himself up, gracefully, sensually, eyes only on Asami and seeing nothing but him as he pushes the man gently back onto the couch making his vision cloud again, like it had that night. Akihito straddles his lap without a second thought and claims those lips like the starved summers earth would claim the cool, merciful rain. He moans into the kiss, Asami's lips, body and heat the only things in the whole world that Akihito needs right now, his hips grinding down on Asami wantonly, desperately and awakening his arousal as the little red panties restrict his own pleasure deliciously, teasingly. The front of the knickers grow slightly wet with little drip drops of moisture as Akihito rolls his hips. His little glistening, pink helmet head poking out the top, just like Asami had envisioned.

_"_ _Akihito."_  He says, voice thick with arousal and Akihito and the boy is the only thing his eyes can see, his Russian coming through rushed and rough with need.  _"Show me Akihito_ , touch yourself thinking only of me.  _Show me."_

The boy obeys without thought, eyes still so pleadingly locked onto Asami's own golden orbs as he teases the head of his dick over the black ribbon waistband and calls the mans name, just three fingers pushing and pulling at the foreskin and rubbing his slit as he gasps and pants into Asami's mouth and his lovers name spills like a silent prayer as he takes more and more of his throbbing, wet member in hand and strokes it. So empty though, still so lost without Asami's hands on him, without his mouth kissing him and his dick inside him. He whispers it all to him gasping all the while, every secret emotion and hopeless wish he's ever had for the man and he's uncomprehending as Asami's eyes go wide, seeing Akihito like he never has before, looking so stricken before he pulls him, his Akihito into a too tight hug, into a too suffocating kiss.

Akihito comes with a muffled scream and falls boneless against Asami where the man breathes heavily and holds him, close. Always.

He trails his hands possessively, obsessively over that milky skin, the skin he needs to mark and claim once again as his own and he reaches Akihito's ass. Hands trailing greedily over the curve of those plump cheeks decorated with satin as Akihito nuzzles against him and he swipes his fingers into a glob of come so he can ease his way in, kissing a trail and sucking his own angry red marks onto the boys skin before he unzips and instructs Akihito to sit on him. To impale himself down on Asami's huge cock.

The boy shimmies the panties down at the back to reveal his little pink hole and sinks himself onto the length without a word, licking his lips as his head lolls to one side, letting out the most indecent sigh Asami has ever heard and he's surprised he doesn't come right then. His hips shift a little, desperate to fuck up into that tight, bewitching heat thats gripping him so tightly but he grabs Akihito's ass instead, instructing him to ride it, telling him to fuck his little ass right down onto his cock, right to the hilt.

His breath catches again as his slave does exactly what he's told, rolling and lifting his hips and driving Asami crazy with the teasing rhythm. Two small hands reach up, Asami assumes to hold onto his shoulders but instead the boy clutches his shirt, ripping it clean open at the front and sending buttons flying before he launches forwards, sucking hickey after hickey and sinking his teeth into Asami's nipples, his neck. This little monster licking at Asami's hard brown buds and sucking them into hardened nubs, growling like a little cat.

Asami has never been a nipple man himself, his own bringing him no pleasure when countless lovers had tried to do this to him before, but the sight of Akihito greedily lapping at them and nibbling at them so wantonly makes him growl with need. That is, the need to flip the boy onto the couch and fuck him clear through it, right to down to the floorboards. Into the floor below.

He grasps the boys arms without mercy, eyes blind and wild and fingers turning white from the pressure but he rips the boy up and off of his dick, throwing him face down onto the sofa and ramming into him with a beastly moan, throwing his head back and thrusting into that greedy little hole. Stitches long forgotten. Akihito arches his back and claws at the fine leather, head thrown back in ecstasy and mouth slack as his cock bobs back and forth rigorously from the sheer force of Asami's thrusts and pre-come dribbling obscenely on the couch cushions as he begs and pleads for more, harder, faster, for anything that Asami is willing to give him. He'll take it all.

"F-uuh-!"

Asami catches himself in his hazed state, moaning as he pounds himself into Akihito's ass, his hands shamelessly bruising the boys hips as he rolls into them, ramming faster and faster with his mouth open in arousal, his tongue darting out to taste the sweat dotted on his top lip before he laughs at the sheer abandonment he's feeling. Only Akihito could turn him into this and he realises that like last time he's as much os a slave to this hypnosis as Akihito, only the boy capable of turning even the strongest of men into blind, lustful monsters. But Asami will never again let anyone touch him, won't ever let anyone know just how much of a bewitching little sex kitten his Akihito is, the one that's screaming his name right now. Voice hoarse with exhaustion as he bucks his own hips greedily back on his lovers cock. Asami's balls slapping against Akihito's ass.

He rucks down the front of Akihito's panties some more, freeing the red, swelled penis completely and taking it in hand so he can pump Akihito to completion. Making him mewl and moan like a little animal.

_"_ _Ah-A-Asa-mi-c-com-ing-u-u-u-C-CO-ME-UH-!"_

Akihito spills onto the sofa, endless ropes of white come spurting out of his dick as he cries out, eyes wide as he passes out with Asami following him down as he's still clamped so tightly inside, another grunt coming from his lips as he comes inside his boy after a few more quick thrusts and his hips lock up, muscles jerking and cock spasming. He faintly recalls, as he lets himself catch his breath lying on top of Akihito, that this time and even with the hypnosis - this time there hadn't been that much different in the sex between them. Regardless of Asami's command. The panties sure had been a new addition, but the passion had not and he finds himself relieved. Satisfied that once again Akihito is  _his_  completely, utterly and maybe, maybe Asami will finally try to be different. To go a little way into admitting what he feels.

The man sighs, taking a deep breath and coming down from his high as he slides off of Akihito and to the side, still holding the boy to his chest though there's a warm wetness that soon catches his attention. A little bit of discomfort. Ah, he sees. It's the blood he's managed to smear all over the boy's back, ass and all over the cream leather sofa. His stitches having well and truly torn leaving his bandages a dripping crimson mess.

The doctor's gonna be pissed.

Asami groans a little at the pain and the sheer  _pain-in-the-ass_  that is the mess he's made but even still he thinks it was totally worth it, there's no way Akihito would have agreed to wear those frilly knickers if not under hypnosis and what a sight it had been. He shuts his eyes, leaning his head back against the arm on the sofa with a satisfied sigh as the boy shifts in his arms, turning to face his lover. The one smiling despite the pain he's in.

"A-Asami?…Wha…?"

Akihito pushes up a little, feeling uncomfortable for so many different reasons, he's all sticky, allover - his balls are aching, trapped and squished beneath what feels like an elastic bands wrapped around his thighs and his ass hurts. And that, could only mean one thing.

"You-what? Why are we on the sofa Asami?…"

He pushes up a little more, confused at the mini blood bath and red smears all over the sofa that seem to lead to him, to the man next to him. The photographer gasps in realisation, shooting up and reaching for Asami's abdomen, assessing the damage.

"Asami, what the hell? Are you OK?!"

He casts his eyes urgently around for his cell phone, noticing his state of undress when he's spotted his jeans discarded on the floor. He dives for them, plucking out the device and dialling Kirishima as he glares daggers at Asami. The shameless bastard.

The disgruntled photographer mumbles to Kirishima when the man picks up the call while he gets up and shimmies out of the stupid fucking pants Asami had somehow got him into, the man doesn't care, still laying on the sofa with a self satisfied expression on his face, dick out and not looking at all like he had just somehow managed to trick Akihito to fuck him while unconscious and wound himself in the process. The former happening with alarming regularity. But the man just lays there, arms going behind his head and he takes a deep breath, it hitching a little with the strain again on his wound but he still feels great. Like the cat who got the cream. Or the kitten.

Akihito comes back into the room in a pair of shorts and a tank as he hangs up the phone and approaches the sofa, sighing but tucking Asami back into his boxers and zipping up his slacks when it's clear he won't do it himself. Shameless bastard!

"Asami, Kirishima's on his way with the doctor. And you're sleeping on your own tonight. Don't think I'll forget about these."

The semen covered pants land on Asami's chest, just under his chin and he smirks, eyes still closed as he reaches down to grab the panties, bringing them to his face to he can breathe Akihito in. Making him blush and exclaim before swooping in to try and snatch them back but only managing to get caught and pulled down onto Asami instead. The man staring at Akihito with warm eyes.

"Mine."

The boy rolls his own eyes at that, an exasperated shake of the head his only response until he's leant down to kiss the man on the lips.

"Yours. Bastard."

Time stops for them both as they await the arrival of Kirishima and the physician, Asami's eyes once again flying wide before he just laughs into the sunlit room and holds Akihito tighter, of course. Of course he needn't have bothered hypnotising Akihito, of course he hadn't needed to. The boy shows him everyday, Can't help but show him just how he feels. Even if he doesn't say it quite as sweetly as he shows it.

He draws his own smiling lips towards Akihito's own, a slow glide of tongues before they plunge completely in. Heavy breaths and rustling of fabric the only sounds in the room, heartbeats drumming chaotic, driving rhythms against the mens ribcages and they part, swallowing thickly, Asami hoping the doctor can stitch him up and leave quickly so they can continue as Akihito's already whispering to him, every filthy detail of the blow job he wants to give Asami when they're alone again, how he wants to worship the mans dick whilst holding his sexy, powerful hips down. Driving him crazy with desire while he rides the man, Asami having no choice but to lay back and watch as Akihito does what he pleases.

Asami closes his eyes to it, a hot breath and even hotter surge of arousal coursing through him as the doorbell goes. Akihito drawing the mans attention when his weight leaves him and he laughs, looking back over his shoulder at the tent in the crime lords trousers. His eyes gleaming wickedly. This cheeky, adorable little shit.

" _Or maybe not_ , payback for hypnotising me -" He sticks his tongue out and goes to answer the door, leaving Asami to look longingly down at the countless hickeys and teeth marks decorating his chest and barely visible under the smeared blood, the ones that he's not going to bother covering up. He sits up, readying himself to greet his visitors as his dick reluctantly settles back down. Reassuring himself that it's alright after all.  _As after all_ , Akihito will still be vulnerable to hypnosis for several days yet. And he can still get all those things Akihito had just promised him.

Foolish boy.

He stands up as the men and Akihito enter the room, his mask in place once more which does well in concealing all the wicked ideas going through his head right now. The idea that maybe he  _will_  hunt down Eduard Arbatov after all.

There's quite a sizeable purchase he wishes to make.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes I realise now that there are so many of my stories that involve dressing up or forcing Akihito into women's underwear. That's one I'll leave my future psychiatrist to think about : )


End file.
